Cabin Fever
by Frozentoes
Summary: When Azriel is wounded in battle he lands on the doorstep of a young human who nurses him back to health. But this human has her own agenda and a mysterious past that takes the Inner Circle's support and patience to uncover. While the mortal learns to live again, Azriel finds himself inextricably linked to her journey.
1. Finding Azriel

**Prologue**

"Rhysand! The left flank is failing!" cried Azriel. "They're using an aerial arsenal to drop fire bombs on the troops below!" Azriel grabbed Rhys' shoulder and pulled him past as he lunged forward to stab his sword into the stomach of an enemy soldier.

"Thanks," breathed Rhys as he stretched and rubbed the back of his neck. The battle had been raging since dawn and their energy was beginning to wane. The sun was hanging low and still they fought on. "Take to the skies and break up that formation. We need to ground them if we're going to stand a chance!"

Azriel didn't hesitate and called three other warriors to the sky with him. Exhaustion was taking hold and he shook himself to clear his head. His wings felt heavy as he tried to gain altitude. A gash across his chest from a near miss with a sword point was bleeding heavily. His wrist throbbed from repeated blows and he readjusted his grip to ensure he still held it firm. His Siphons were dull as he used them to shield blows and blast through enemy ranks. Regardless, he flew straight into the aerial fae causing them scatter.

A hard blow slammed into him behind. The collision knocked the wind out of him and he gasped for air as he lunged for a large faery. They grappled together twisting and turning in the air, landing punches and kicks in equal measure. Azriel brought his knees up and double kicked the faery in the chest and get some space. The faery's dragonfly wings buzzed furiously as he wound up to charge again. But instead another soldier slammed into Azriel's side, sending him reeling.

Azriel growled in frustration that he was losing his bearings. He was so tired he'd let another sneak up on him. The battle had gone on too long and he was getting sloppy. As he struggled to land punches, he swung out to catch the first faery with a blast from his weakened Siphon. His ears rang as the second faery smashed his head when he looked away.

They were moving away from the the battle as they flew together, several others surrounded them trying to land blows. Azriel's hands were locked around the faery's throat when blinding pain erupted from his back. A sword blow had sliced through his wing, shattering the bones and ripping the skin. He was in agony but just squeezed the faery's throat tighter. The faery tried to pull away and dragged Azriel along with him. They were losing altitude as he wasn't able to bear the extra weight. Azriel was bleeding badly and unable to fly at all. The faery spat in his face and smirked. Azriel's head spun as he struggled to remain conscious. The darkness was creeping in but he clutched to the faery to keep from crashing. But it wasn't enough.

He fell.

 **Chapter 1**

The girl shifted the straps on her pack again, adjusting them so they weren't digging into her shoulders. She made a mental note to look into redesigning the width so they distributed the weight more evenly. Maybe if they attached to the pack further apart they wouldn't pinch her neck? Her pace slowed as she daydreamed possibilities. She blinked to clear her mind and realised she had stopped walking altogether. A glance at the snow covered forest and another pack adjustment. The rabbit she had just snared swung loosely from the pack, plump from its recent feast on fresh spring greens.

It was always odd to think of the rabbit having just eaten spring greens, when she was tromping through the snow. When spring arrived she was hoping it would turn to summer. But as she was collecting the fresh plants herself the snow began to fall. Summer and autumn were skipped altogether. The rabbit was plump but its fur would not be thick and warm. The snow had fallen through a long Dark but had stopped when the Light reappeared. So she set her snares and chopped wood while she waited. The temperature was falling and she was worried the Light was leaving, so she had returned to check the traps.

The girl crouched down to observe some tracks in the snow. Her long red-brown hair fell to one side where it was tied in a leather thong. She held her rough and calloused hands next to the track to measure the length and gait. The mouse had run quickly from the base of the oak tree to the pine. Perhaps it had a stash of food there. Or were they vole tracks? The voles usually travelled under the snow, but likely hadn't had time to dig their tunnels just yet. She carefully noted the length of each of the toes and the tail drag mark between the prints, committing the details to her well-trained memory.

She straightened and looked around, listening to the birds calling in the canopy, recognising their calls down to the species. The Light was fading either from an approaching storm or the arrival of Dark. It was hard to tell with clouds covering the sky, hanging low. But it didn't matter; it wasn't like she could get lost. She was wandering carelessly when up ahead in the forest she noticed an odd lump on ground. She froze and stared hard. Her breath quickened as she approached it.

A man lay in the snow before her. An actual person. His dark hair was matted with dirt and dried blood and his face marred with many cuts and scrapes. Both eyes were black and one was so swollen she could only see a slit where the lids met. The face was so unrecognisable it occurred to her it might not be a man at all. It could be woman. His massive size and short hair suggested he was a man. But women could be large as well, she thought. Maybe this was just a regular sized woman and the girl herself was abnormally small. The thought had never occurred to her before and she made a note to research human heights and weights. And vole tracks.

The girl looked down at the rest of the body. Fighting leathers covered his/her torso but were ripped and torn from a vicious fight. A large gash cut across his/her chest but the blood had clotted and dried already. _Looks like he lost the fight._ She _lost the fight?_ The girl's eyes wandered down to the leg that was clearly broken. She grimaced and gulped in fresh air as she took in the shattered leg. She felt her meal rolling around and quickly looked away to the surrounding forest to keep from vomiting.

It was only then that she realised what was most odd about the situation: there were no tracks leading to the body. He/she was not covered in snow, so clearly had arrived here after the snowfall. No snowfall would have covered the tracks showing where he/she had come from. The girl looked left, and right, and back at the body. Then she slowly looked up to the sky. Branches had been snapped and hung up loosely in the canopy. He had fallen. He was travelling through the canopy of the forest, like a squirrel? When an unfortunate misstep lead to a disastrous fall. No, he looked like there had been a fight. Or maybe attacked by a pursuer in the trees. This all seemed very unplausible to the girl.

She started and stepped back quickly when the body groaned and shifted. Admittedly, she had kind of assumed it was dead. But then it rolled over to its belly slightly and revealed a set of wings half buried in the snow.

"Huh. That's new."


	2. Wings

**Chapter 2**

The fire crackled to life in the stone fireplace and the girl carried a flame over to the lamp on the table. As the light illuminated the tiny space in her cabin she collapsed into her only chair and closed her eyes. The man lay on her bed in the corner of the room, his body awkwardly propped up to prevent further damage to his wings.

"Male," she said aloud. Fae are male and female. Not men and women. Technically, he could still be female, she thought. She hadn't done a thorough investigation just yet. "But he sure is heavy enough to be male," she said to no one.

She looked at him again and inhaled deeply, then let it out in a whoosh. She stood and nervously wiped her hands on her shirt while she approached the bed. The girl leaned over and carefully unbuckled the leathers searching for ties under the thick plates. She slid them off delicately, taking extra care with the beautiful jewels embedded in them. The cobalt stones shone in the firelight feeling raw and angry in her hands. She quickly put them aside, subconsciously distancing herself from their energy. She pulled back what was left of his shirt revealing a finely toned chest with a deep gash across it. The gash had clotted but was full of dirt and would need to be reopened and washed out.

She stepped back to look at the big picture and dropped the ragged shirt on the floor. The cut could wait; the leg was a bigger problem.

She untied the buckle to his pants and worked them off carefully. "Small mercies…" she muttered. The movement would have been agonising had he been awake. Even unconscious he jerked and pulled away from the abuse. The male flinched and groaned as she lifted the leg to pull off the pants. The girl placed her hands on the leg feeling for the bones and breaks. He groaned and tried to move away.

The girl stepped back again and bit her lip, then walked to the far wall of the cabin, where a bookshelf stretched from floor to ceiling. Books of every shape and size lined the shelves, their covers marked with letters and colours from centuries of writing. She ran her fingers along them slowly, as though she knew their content just from the feel of the spine. It was like she entered into a bit of a trance, not even reading the titles but just waiting for the book to speak to her. When her fingers stopped on a book, she smiled to herself and let out a small sigh of relief. She pulled it off the shelf and began flipping the pages quickly as she walked to the table and turned up the lamp. With no hesitation she found the exact spot in the book that outlined the human skeleton. The book was written by human healers, exploring the structure and make-up of muscles, bones, blood vessels, and internal organs. She had it memorised but wanted to bring up the drawing to be sure. Particularly since the leg she was looking at wasn't exactly human. But aside from the wings, everything else looked the same, on the outside at least.

She bit her lip and muttered to herself, "But different back muscles...to power the wings. And the lungs would have to work differently...and the heart..to provide enough air and blood…" her voice trailed off as she thought through the biomechanics of what it would take to keep his hulking mass in the air. The male moaned under his breath and twisted his head. The sound snapped her out of her musings and brought her back to the pressing problem: the shattered leg.

She put the book down on the table and approached the bed. It was clear the bones had shifted and were cutting off proper circulation to the lower part of the leg. If she didn't set it soon, the muscle would would die from lack of blood. He would lose his leg if she didn't restored the blood flow. He would lose his life if he lost his limb, because she didn't think she could cut if off cleanly with an axe. Actually...maybe she could cut it off. She eyed the axe by the door. A well placed shot below a tourniquet would be less painful than what she needed to do to set the bones. She shook the thought from her head.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said to herself. "What if he needs his legs to take off?"

She didn't want to think of the wings yet. They had to wait. She turned back to the bed and squared her shoulders.

* * *

The snow continued to fall as the girl patched up the broken fae in her tiny cabin. Light and Dark had come and gone several times before her exhaustion began to take over. She had used a pulley and rope to create enough traction to pull the bones together, but she had only her touch to know if it had worked. She wouldn't be able to tell until the swelling went down and allowed her a more precise feel. When Light returned again she went out to collect some straight branches and peeled them smooth. She tore up the remnants of his shirt to use as bandages and created a splint to hold the leg in place in case he should jerk suddenly. She tested the nail bed of his toes, squeezing them to see how quickly the colour returned. Eventually the limb began to pink up, telling her that blood flow had been restored.

She boiled water over the fire and took a cloth to wipe off the dirt and blood that coated his body. She sterilised some cloths in the boiling water and when they were cool used them to wipe out the deeper wounds. She might have to stitch the gash across his chest. She had a book for that. But really what she was doing was procrastinating from dealing with the wings. She had no books on the anatomy of human wings. Fae wings, she corrected herself. He was fae. Or maybe they could be human wings. Could humans have wings? She wondered. Birds have wings. Insects have wings. Bats have wings.

Bats.

The wings looked like the wings of a bat. They came out of his back on a long bone, then fanned out in fingers. A thumb-like claw stuck out the top. The girl racked her memory for a book about bat anatomy. None came to mind, but she remembered a drawing of a bat's wing outstretched highlighting its ability to take flight.

Her hands paused from cleaning the fae's body and she stared hard at the wings. She slowly reached over and gently pulled the wing out from his body. The thin membrane of skin was in shreds and several 'fingers' were visibly out of place.

"Doesn't matter if they are bat wings. The bones should be straight and the skin must attach in order to heal," she affirmed to herself. He needs to fly. Had has to. To save them both.


	3. Azriel wakes

**Chapter 3**

Azriel was on fire. His whole body screamed in pain as he burned. His brothers had poured oil on him and lit him on fire. His father was holding his hand to the stove for the crime of existing. Not his hand, his leg. His leg was on fire, sending flames shooting all over his body. He screamed and tried to pull away but found he couldn't move. He was forced to lie on the stove while he burned. With every ounce of strength he had he twisted and tried to move away from the heat but it persisted, following him. He kicked out and the burning was replaced with a stabbing pain that broke the dream and brought him back to consciousness.

He cracked his eyes open and saw that he wasn't in his father's house, but in an unfamiliar room. One eye was swollen shut, he couldn't focus properly on his surroundings. The trained warrior in him searched for a clue to his location. Had he been captured; prisoner of war? Slight but coarse hands felt his forehead and touched his cheeks. Azriel searched frantically for the source and saw only a woman's face with long brown hair.

"Feyre?" he mumbled. He tried to push himself up but firm hands held him down. It wasn't necessary, the pain kept him in place.

Something cool was placed on his back and he could feel the heat ease slightly. The agony was still there but a wave of calm came over him. He fought to open his eye again but the lids were too heavy. "Feyre, what are you doing…" he whispered as darkness found him again.

* * *

When he woke next, Azriel's sudden intake of breath jerked his muscles, sending a wave of pain and nausea through every part of this body. He was lying on his stomach, his feet sticking out off the end of the bed. He lay still as his eyes adjusted to the light. Without moving he scanned the room to get his bearings and he automatically searched for any threats or objects he could use as a weapon. He noted the window over the bed and by the only door, on the far side of the cabin.

It was a single room with the bed tucked in the corner, a large stone fireplace on wall to his left, and shelves lining the wall on his right. On the shelves were jars and baskets with things like potatoes and onions, flour, and herbs. On the other side of the fireplace was a bookshelf filled to the brim. A rocking chair sat below the window. A small table with a stool sat in the middle of the room, holding a half eaten loaf of bread, some cheese, and several open books.

His senses relaxed as he took in the scene and he felt strangely comfortable with the quaint feel of the cabin. It was rustic and unfinished, but the door sat square in its frame and the windows were clean and clear of cracks. Through them he could see the sun shining brightly and leaves on the trees trembling in the light breeze. How long have I been here? he puzzled. He remembered snow.

A pot was simmering over a low fire, sending a delicious scent his way, making his stomach growl angrily. But what he really needed was water. His mouth was so dry he could barely swallow and his lips were cracked and raw. He spied a cup and jug on the small table next to the bed and focused all his energy reaching for it. His was body was ruined. Every muscle was bruised and sore, or burned with cuts and scrapes. He started by wiggling his fingers slightly then managed to lift his hand. The muscles in his back screamed in protest as his shifted his arm to reach for the jug. He sucked in a deep breath and bit down a groan as he stretched out. But his movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, so instead of grabbing the cup, he knocked it over, spilling water on the table and ground. He was so desperate for water he brought his hand to his lips and licked off the moisture. But the tease just made him more desperate and he clenched his jaw, breathing heavily through his teeth as his lifted his torso to get a firm handle on the jug. A wave of nausea passed over him and his vision narrowed as blackness creeped in from the sides.

"I will not pass out," his whispered to the room. In a final push of effort he lunged out and toppled off the bed. The side table collapsed as he grabbed it to stabilize himself, and his torso hit the floor but his legs stayed on the bed. The twisting of his body was too much pain. The darkness came to him as quickly as the pair boots came across the room.

* * *

Azriel stirred uncomfortably on the narrow bed. He cracked his eyes open and blinked away the sleep. The room was dark but a warm light came from the fireplace and a single lamp on the table. A female was sitting at the table hunched over a book, worriedly chewing on her thumbnail. She reached up and tucked a strand of long brown hair behind her ear and he realised with a start it wasn't a female, but a girl. A woman. He wasn't sure where the line was. A human girl was sitting at the table in front of him. She was intensely focused on the book, but glanced up briefly and met his gaze. Her golden brown eyes bore into him as they stared at each other. With clearer eyes he saw she had only a passing resemblance to Feyre, brown hair and brown eyes, but she was not so lithe as Feyre was as a human.

Their staring contest lasted a few breaths when she seemed to snap out of it and brought her hand down to the table. She swallowed nervously and took a breath.

"Hi."

When he didn't answer right away, she looked down at her hands and to the fire and glanced back at him. She seemed to want to say something more but the words never formed. She was visibly nervous and kept glancing around the room. He tried to speak but only croaked a sound, his lips cracked and throat painfully dry.

"Oh! You need water!" she exclaimed. Without waiting for him to answer she leapt up and grabbed a pitcher. She poured some water and brought it over to him, her hand shaking slightly. He tried to move his arm to take it but found his limbs were frozen stiff. He could bring his hands up but couldn't possibly grip the cup.

"It's alright, it's alright," she whispered. "Just relax." The human girl lifted Azriel's head and tilted the cup to his lips. He gulped at the water greedily using his club-like hands to push the cup and pour it into his mouth, but she resisted and pulled it back.

"Easy there, not so fast. You have nothing in your stomach and you'll vomit if you drink this all at once," she said. She set the cup down and used a cloth to wipe his face where the water had spilled down his chin. He was mortified but she didn't seem to notice and simply stood to reach for the pitcher and refill the cup. The water helped Azriel think clearly and he took some calming breaths.

He cleared his throat and managed to wheeze out, "Who are you?"

She paused and focused on him. Something like disappointment passed over her soft features and her shoulders sagged slightly. But she took a deep breath and let it out, like she had resigned herself to something. With a small smile she answered, "I'm Kyla. I live here." She turned abruptly and walked over to the fire and stirred the ashes. Buried in the coals was an iron pot with a heavy lid. She made sure there were coals all around the pot and blew on them lightly to bring them life.

"I'm Azriel," was all he could think to say. He didn't know how much he should tell her. He had no idea where he was and whose side she was on. She could be a spy herself, or a peasant happy to sell him for some easy coin, once she found out he was part of the Inner Circle of the Night Court. Regardless, he was in no shape to fight if someone came to her door, looking to make a name for themselves.

She straightened by the fire and turned to look at him, seizing him up as if trying to decide how much to tell him too. Instead she asked, "Would you like something to eat? I made some bread and you could have a piece between sips of water?" She pulled a cloth off a loaf of bread and ripped off a few pieces, putting them on a plate. She set the plate on a bedside table that had been hastily repaired with some string and branches. Kyla noticed him staring at it.

"Don't worry about it," she reassured him. "It was a flawed design anyway. Not structurally sound. I'll improve it for the next one."

He had a vague memory of it not holding his weight as he fell out of bed. A little embarrassed at the thought, he grimaced and took a piece of bread from the plate. While he chewed on it she placed the cup on the table as well, and stepped back. Her hands wouldn't stop fidgeting and she didn't seem to know what to do with them. As Azriel worked on the bread she seemed to summon the courage to speak again.

"You fell. From the sky. I don't know why but from the nature of your injuries I would surmise it was a quite a battle. But your leg was crushed and your wings...I don't know how to fix your wings."

Azriel continued chewing on the bread slowly as he took this in. He knew he was hurt, but didn't know the extent of his injuries. The pain was so vast through his body, it was hard to pinpoint the exact cause.

She continued, "I'm worried because you don't seem to be healing."

"My wings?" he asked. He tried to move them gently but the pain brought a wave of dizziness forcing him to he close his eyes and put his head back to the pillow.

"Everything," Kyla clarified. "I set the bones in your leg, stitched the gash on your chest, and generally patched you up, but the swelling remains and the cuts aren't scabbing over. I can't figure out why."

Azriel gave her a puzzled look. "It will take a few days, but I'm not concerned." He was confident his fae body would take over once he regained some strength.

"Well, I don't know how much, but it has been some time already. You were unconscious through a winter, but that was helpful because I was able to use the ice to cool your leg. Summer has been here for a while, so I could collect some more herbs if you know what I should look for. I don't know if there's something special for fae…" Azriel furrowed his brow, trying to think. His head felt like it was full of cotton stuffing. He was having trouble tracking the conversation.

"How do you mean winter has come and gone?" he asked.

"Well it was just a short one. But rather handy, really. It allowed me to pull you back here on a sled. I never would have been able to carry you. Plus, like I said about the snow…" Her voice trailed off when she noticed Azriel was looking at her like she had gone mad. "Well, I mean, relatively short. It's all just relative," she added, biting her lower lip slightly.

A headache began to creep in behind Azriel's eyes. He started to think he might have been saved by a crazy person. She was living out here all alone and had no sense of time or rational thought. As if to reinforce this point, at that moment a fox appeared at the door and let himself in. Without hesitation the fox walked right up to Kyla and put its paws on her leg, begging for food. She looked down unsurprised and gave the fox a beautiful smile.

"Hello handsome. Are you enjoying the warmer weather?" she asked the fox casually. Her smile lit her eyes and she gave the fox a vigorous scratch on the head. Satisfied with the attention, the fox wandered back out to the porch and lounged in the sun, like a house cat on the end of the bed. Kyla noticed Azriel staring at her and straightened quickly.

"I don't actually think he's going to answer me. It's a fox." Her brows were furrowed and she bit her lower lip again. "I'm not a Crazy-Fox-Lady, or anything."

Azriel didn't say anything but took another sip of water. She still didn't look away, as if waiting for him to confirm her sanity. When he kept his silence she walked up to the table and picked up a book.

"It says here that the Achillea flower and leaves help with healing by clearing out toxins and improving blood flow. Do you know, will that apply to fae as well?" she asked. "I mean, I'm assuming you're a fae. No ears...but the wings…"

"I don't know, but imagine it won't hurt," Azriel answered.

She looked relieved that he answered at all and nodded slightly. "I know where I can find some. I'll go collect some right away." She glanced at the fire quickly to ensure the coals still surrounded the pot and grabbed a knife from the table, throwing a satchel over her shoulder. Before Azriel could answer she stepped out of the cabin, leaving the door open to the fresh air outside. The fox jumped up and followed her down the three steps and off into the forest.


	4. What books?

**Chapter 4**

Kyla sat in the chair beside the bed feeding Azriel spoonfuls of a light stew. The male lay propped up in the bed, an elaborate collection of pillows and blankets supporting his back but preventing his shattered wing from being crushed. He was mortified at being fed like a child but his body craved nourishment and he was too weak to feed himself. Between spoonfuls he asked, "How long was I unconscious?"

She hesitated before answering, "Hard to say really. Several Darks but they seemed quite long to me. Maybe because I was feeling impatient for time to pass. The Light was very short, almost like it was just long enough for me to run and grab a few things then come back."

Azriel was so confused. Dark and Light? "So, about four days?" he clarified.

"Not exactly," Kyla grimaced. "The Dark and the Light are not equal. Sometimes it's close, but it's random. It can stay one for a long while, or the other. I only know it's long if I get so tired I fall asleep when it's still Light out. Or if I wake and the sun never rises, I just continue on my day in the Dark. Sometimes the sun will set, and then like it has changed its mind, it rises again right away. The lack of a pattern makes it impossible to use Light and Dark as a measure of time passing. It could have been four days or four weeks."

This made absolutely no sense and Azriel began to reconsider the Crazy-Fox-Lady hypothesis. But she went on, "It's the same with the seasons. They come and go as they please. Winter can last for one Dark, the snow gone when the Light returns. And summer sometimes feels like it never ends. It can change so quickly, you need to be prepared for anything at all times. But usually if it feels like winter is coming back, I return the Cabin quickly. I'm never far, so it seems easier than carrying my heavy coat everywhere."

Azriel found Kyla's over-explanations of things comforting. It was as if no one could make up such an elaborate lie, it must therefore be the truth. Her long-winded answers were in stark contrast to his usually terse and curt conversational tactics. Plus, she would realise she was rambling and slowly cut herself off, which made him smile lightly.

"How can this be?" asked Azriel.

Kyla shrugged. "Magic, I guess," she said almost sheepishly. "I think it's so that you can't measure time. You can't keep track of how long or short anything is. There's nothing here that allows for that. The trees grow at random speeds, animals come and go. The log pile never runs out. The moon never changes." She seemed to be lost in thought as she imagined all the ways one would normally keep track of time.

Azriel began to say something but Kyla cut him off. "Is it any good?" she asked tentatively. He gave her a puzzled look. "The stew. Does it taste alright?" she clarified.

Compared to fae food the stew was bland and tough. And it was the most delicious thing Azriel had ever tasted. He would have eaten mud, his body was so hungry. "Yes, thank you," he answered politely. Silence hung between them and he felt the need to fill it. "What's in it?"

"Grouse. The fox brought it," Kyla stopped and looked at him like she had been caught in a lie. "He does that sometimes. When I don't get out to hunt. But I cleaned it, so it's not gross." She swallowed nervously. "There's also leek, potato, carrots, pasture sage, and chicory for some flavour." She shrugged awkwardly. "I didn't know if the sage and chicory would go well together. I just use what I can find." She gave him a shy smile and looked down at the bowl.

Azriel looked at her face more closely. She was an unusual person to say the least. She was clearly an adept huntress and very knowledgeable of the plants she could put to use. Yet she theorized about the relativity of time like a philosopher and befriended wild animals like pets. He wondered if he had ever had such a lengthy conversation with a human woman. He wanted to know what she was doing here, without giving himself away. Maybe she could give him some clues as to how he ended up in the mortal realm and why his friends hadn't come to find him yet.

"Where did you get all that?" he prompted. "From the market?"

From the look she gave him, he might have asked her if she had green blood. Her eyes sparkled with a bit of laughter. But the light faded quickly and she chuckled awkwardly, like she was trying to make light of something she didn't really find that funny.

"Um, no. Not a market. Just the forest. And the Cabin." She got up to reach for some bread and a mug of tea that held the Achillea flower. Azriel felt she was hiding something. He was a master of secrets after all and his talent was rooting out information.

Instead he blurted out,"Why? Is there not a town close by where you get your supplies?" It was the most unsubtle question he had ever asked. He closed his eyes and cringed at his carelessness. The tea must be muddling his brain. What if she had put something other than Achillea in it? What if she has misidentified it, or was deliberately poisoning him?

He took a breath to restart his train of thought and looked over to see Kyla staring out the window, one hand absentmindedly still holding the mug in mid-air. She looked incredibly sad in that moment, as if she had made a grave mistake and could never go back.

She sighed slowly and said, almost to herself, "No town. Just...here."

Azriel stared at her back waiting for her to go on. But instead of another complex explanation she looked down meekly and walked over to sit on the stool and help him drink the tea. She sipped at it first, checking to make sure it wasn't too hot. Not poison then, he thought.

The food was sitting low in his stomach making him drowsy. It took enough energy to digest it, he didn't have much left for conversation. Kyla titled the cup to his lips and helped him drink.

"This should help with the pain," she said. He sipped lightly letting the warm fluid rinse down his throat and settle in his stomach. The tea tasted bitter but in an earthy, wholesome way. It tasted good for you. He was fading out again, settling into an awkward sleep. He fought to stay awake by asking this human woman the question on top of his mind.

"What are you doing here?" he mumbled.

She didn't answer right away but somewhere in his sleep he thought he heard her say, "I wish I knew."


	5. The Corasnow

**Chapter 5**

Kyla paced the cabin fretfully. The fae had been in and out of consciousness for too long, never as lucid has he had been the day he ate the stew. He would wake briefly enough to eat something and sip some tea. She tried to ask where there was pain but he would pull away from her and groan. The swelling was still high in his leg and dark red lines were streaking out from the wounds. A fever had set in and sweat soaked the sheets of the bed though he shivered with cold. Kyla shook her head and ran her hands down her face. He needed something to help him heal, and she didn't know what.

She walked over to the bookshelf for the hundredth time and scanned the shelves. "Come on, give me something," she begged. But no book had appeared on the shelf that would help her heal the fae. Frustrated, she stalked back to the table and leaned over the books open there. She knew them all by memory and yet she re-read the text trying to find some new clues. Despite her best efforts an infection had set in and it appeared she needed to reopen his stitches and clean out the rot. She had clean cloths soaking in a disinfectant solution of herbs and heated her knife over the fire.

She gathered the supplies and brought a bucket of clean water over to the bed where Azriel lay. She dipped the cloth in the cool water and washed the sweat from his face. She continued down his neck and then focused on the gash on his chest. It hadn't been very deep but it was now red and inflamed and tender to the touch. She tried to be gentle but wanted to make sure the area was clean before she opened it up again. Azriel stirred and opened his eyes.

"Hey there. I'm sorry this hurts but we've got to do something. You're not getting any better," she explained. Azriel tried to smile in appreciation.

"I understand," he croaked. A coughing fit overtook him and his whole body spasmed as his lungs tried to clear the fluid. Kyla held his shoulders trying to minimize the movement lest he damage the wings and leg again. "What will you do?" he rasped.

"'I'm going to pull the stitches to clean out the pus. I think it's going to hurt, a lot."

Azriel nodded slowly and closed his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. "Alright, I'm ready."

Kyla was impressed with his grit. He didn't plead for a different solution or insist there was another way. He clenched his hands on the sheets and fixed his stare on the ceiling as Kyla reached for the clean knife to begin picking away the thread. Every muscle in his body tensed as she touched the wound and he squeezed his eyes as if he could shut out the pain. She worked as quickly and gently as she could, but she needed to clear the crusts and cut away the rotted flesh.

"Stop!" gasped Azriel. Kyla pulled back immediately. "Stop, just for a moment. I need a break." She nodded and wiped the knife down then stood to dump the bowl of water out the door. She refilled it from the kettle that boiled over the fire. Azriel kept his eyes closed, panting to catch his breath. She frowned down at the knife in her hand, but couldn't think of what else to do. Besides, they had started down this path and now she needed to finish.

"Azriel," Kyla said softly. When he didn't answer right away she pushed again. "Azriel, we need to keep going." He took a deep breath and blew out through his mouth. He swallowed and nodded his head slightly.

"Continue."

She did.

* * *

Kyla glanced up from her book and saw that Azriel was looking at her. She sat wrapped in a blanket in the rocking chair, her feet propped up on the stool. The lamp hung by the window, snow falling heavily in the darkness outside. She smiled broadly at Azriel, but didn't move right away.

"Well, that's a start," she said. She rose from chair and shuffled over with the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders. She reached down and felt his brow and cheeks. Her smile faltered when she felt the warmth still there, though not raging as it was before. She reached for quilt laying on his chest and then checked herself. She blushed and glanced back at his face. "Mind if I have a look?"

The male actually smiled a bit though it looked strange on his face, he was so ill. "It's nothing you haven't seen already," he said. That made her grin in return.

"Yes well, I thought it polite to ask at least. But, it's not like you could stop me."

Kyla saw panic flash across his face at her little joke. He didn't find his helplessness very funny at all. _Welcome to my life_ , she thought bitterly. Her grin faded as she lightly moved the blanket down. The cut was still red and swollen but there was no fresh pus forming and the stitches had held. Azriel had passed out when she started sewing it up again, the pain overwhelming his weak body.

She replaced the blanket on this chest and lifted it off the foot of bed to look at his leg. The red streaks were fading but had not completely cleared. She tucked the covers in gently and walked over to the shelves and began pulling down some jars.

"What are you doing?" asked Azriel.

"I'm going to mix up a new poultice for the open wounds. Hopefully it will help draw the toxins out and keep you from getting worse. That and some more tea. I'm going to add Plantago to it, as well as willow bark to help with circulation. Do you think can drink some?"

"Will it make me sleep?" he asked. She looked at him sharply, assessing what he was getting at. He went on, "I can't keep my head straight. I - I'm having trouble telling reality from dreams. I mean, at one point I thought I saw a bird on your shoulder. A bluebird, with a yellow bill…" his voice trailed off as he tried to remember.

Kyla bit her lip and looked down at the herbs she was crushing together. There was no need to tell him that wasn't a dream, but a bird she had raised from a hatchling, having fallen from its nest in a windstorm. It was evident he didn't fully trust her already, and she had the idea he might think she had lost her mind.

"It's the illness that's making you sleep," she said down to the herbs. "These herbs are for pain and healing. I can give you something else, if you want to have a deeper sleep."

"No, that's fine. I want to stay awake for a bit." He shifted uncomfortably, too weak to really adjust his bedding at all. Kyla looked over at him and saw his eyelids creep down as he fought to stay awake.

"How do you know so much about healing herbs? Who taught you?" he asked with his eyes closed.

Kyla thought about dodging the question but decided it would come out eventually. "Everyone," she said cryptically. He was too tired to push her with another question, so she kept talking to try to keep him awake long enough to drink some more tea. "I've read books on herbology and healing arts. All the books. I've compared what different authors have said and found the consistencies between them. I can't write anything down, so I've trained a really good memory for details and can now recognise them all." She paused and thought back to the times she had spent with a book in the forest, searching through the foliage for the right plant. "But I'll admit I haven't had much of a chance to see if it really works or not."

She walked over to the fireplace and pulled the kettle off the flames to carry it back to the table. She added the hot water to the herbs in the pot and covered it to let them steep. She added more water to the kettle from a bucket by the door and replaced it over the fire. Kyla thought maybe he had fallen asleep until he spoke again.

"Where did you get all these books? Is that what fills your bookshelf?"

"Yes and no. The books, they are just there. They aren't always the same, they come and go. Rather like the seasons. I read them all, over and over again. For a while they were filled with books on herbs and plants, so I that's what I read." _Either that or converse with the fox,_ she thought but didn't say. Azriel was still in a fevered state confusing reality with fiction, and she didn't want to add to it.

"Other books," was all Azriel could muster. He was fading fast and Kyla checked on the tea.

"What other books?" she repeated. "Science, philosophy, history, even battle tactics and techniques for negotiation. That was a real thriller, that one. Particularly when I have no one with whom I can negotiate." She chuckled at her own sad humour. The irony was lost on her semi-conscious patient. She thought of the books on engineering and art, and how she'd one day like to see those things. Bridges spanning massive rivers and buildings reaching for the sky. She wanted to see a sail catch the breeze and pull a boat through the water, or hear music from stringed instruments.

"Sometimes there are books of tales and stories. I can't always tell if they are fiction or actual recounting of events. But I like to imagine they are real. Stories where miracles happen and heroes overcome evil…" In those stories a knight in shining armor comes to the rescue of a fair maiden. They don't fall out of the sky and die slowly in a cabin while the maiden watches her freedom slip away.

"What are you reading just now?" He seemed to have rallied and was awake again. She wasn't sure how much he heard but supposed it didn't really matter. She poured a cup of tea and blew on it gently while she dragged the stool over to the bed so she could sit and help him sip it slowly. Mostly it drizzled down his chin but he managed to swallow some of it.

"' _Animal Husbandry and Medicinal Care_ ," Kyla said. He squinted up at her like he couldn't remember the question. She smiled and said, "That's the book I was reading. A gripping tale of livestock health care and profitable living arrangements. For example I had no idea that chickens would lay more eggs if their nesting conditions allowed them to feel protected and sheltered. The book is new, I've never seen it before, so that's exciting. Though the topic is a little dry since I have neither farm, nor animals to pair. I'm secretly hoping there will be a sudden plot twist part way through and the cow will fall for the sheep and they run away together." She grinned at her only audience member but found he was sleeping again. _Just as well_ , she thought. He clearly didn't share the same morbid sense of humour.

* * *

The fever swelled again and Azriel woke and slept on and off. Kyla continued to change his dressings and used snow to keep his temperature down. She brought in more wood for the fire but the darkness persisted and she felt as though it was telling her that Azriel's sun would never rise again. She had always avoided reading into the non-patterns of Light and Dark but she couldn't sleep for worry that he would pass. She read the book on farm animals through to the end and then started it again, just as a distraction from standing over Azriel.

She was rereading a section on horse injuries including the often fatal event of a broken leg. The book shared an anecdote of a trainer who had sought the help of the fae to save his favourite horse. The fae told him of a plant that could promote healing and keep the horse from having to be put down. A plant.

Kyla started breathing quickly as she read it again. The book described the plant but it had a name she did not recognise. She got up suddenly from the table and knocked over the stool getting to the bookshelf. She glanced out the window and saw that the sky was lightening and dawn would come after all. _A good sign_ , she thought.

The noise of the stool falling had woken Azriel and he coughed lightly, bringing her attention to the bed.

"What is it, what's wrong?" he rasped. He was so feverish he could barely form the words. His eyes were red and swollen and he could only roll his head to the side, not lift it.

"Not wrong, right," she answered looking back to the bookshelf. "That stupid book on farm care just gave me an idea. I might need a plant I hadn't thought of before. I've been treating you with herbs that were recommended for humans, but what if they aren't good enough? Fae have many similarities with animals. Instincts, strength, agility, hormones - I mean even the terms for sexes 'male' and 'female' are more animal based." Kyla pulled a book down off the shelf and flipped it over while walking back to the table.

"There it is! The Corasnow flower. I've seen it but it's said to be toxic to humans. Both these texts say that it can be quite effective in treating infection in animals, particularly where it's difficult to keep the wounds clean." She looked down to Azriel and bit her lower lip. "What do you think? Is it worth the risk?"

Azriel looked at her a while then spoke in perfect lucidity. It was like he had been given a reprieve from the fever just to make this decision. "I think I'm dying, and I don't know why. I have powers, and I should be healing, but nothing is happening. I need help. I need a fae healer, and there isn't one here. So yes, find the Corasnow and keep me alive until my friends find me."

Kyla was taken aback by his sudden clarity of thought. She wasn't sure she had ever heard him string so many words together at once. As she took in what he said, she nodded and looked outside. It was almost fully light out and the snow was dripping off the eaves in the sun. She walked around the cabin gathering her boots and jacket, slipping a satchel over her shoulder.

She grabbed a knife from the table and said to Azriel, "I'll find the plant."

She said nothing of his friends, and how they were never coming to find him. He didn't need to think about that now. Just staying alive until she got back.

Kyla reached for the door handle and pulled it open to walk outside with a backward glance at the fae in her bed. She didn't have a chance to stop the hand that reached and grabbed the front of her jacket, slamming her back against the door frame. She gasped in horror as she looked into the eyes of another fae male. Unlike Azriel he had pale skin and red-brown hair tied back in a low queue. His blue eyes burned with hate as he sneered at Kyla, pressed against the rough wood.

"Who you talking to, you crazy witch?" slurred the male.

Kyla swung wide with the knife still in her hand and slashed across his face. The male screamed and clutched his face, releasing Kyla as he did. She stumbled as she hit the ground and twisted to get back in the cabin. But the fae was too fast and he grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her back through the door frame. "You bitch!" he screamed at her. "You're going to wish you never met me, for that."

Kyla's teeth were clenched to stop from screaming as he dragged her down the steps by her hair. Instead she said, "I have always wished that!"


	6. The Male Fae

**Chapter 6**

Azriel stared at the open doorway using any bit of energy he had left to call to Rhys. He squeezed his eyes shut and focused solely on sending that mental plea for help. Then he did something he had never done before in his five hundred years of life: he begged. He begged to the Cauldron that they would come and stop the assault that was happening before his eyes.

His body burned anew, not from fever but from shame. For he lay in a comfortable bed begging, while a human girl enduring unspeakable torture refused to give in. The male beat her and whipped her and then he…

Tears fell from his eyes in rage. Even as a child, locked in the basement, he never felt this shame and rage through his whole body. Because it wasn't him that was suffering, but he was watching it happen to another and doing nothing to stop it. An innocent, someone who was trying to help him and now hiding him. He was a stranger and she wouldn't break. For he was far too weak to fight. If the male came into the cabin he would be slaughtered in this bed. Azriel could hear the bones crunching in her body and could almost feel the blows of the male's kicks, but Kyla wouldn't say who was inside the cabin.

The light remained long after the beating stopped. The screams of pain and outrage had faded outside, or at least he had shut his ears to the torture. In the light he stared at the doorway, with nothing but silence outside. The snow melted rapidly and the birds began singing as spring arrived. There was a comfortable warmth in the sun that dried out the ground. But Kyla didn't walk through the door. He tried to call for her but his throat was raw and dry. He couldn't take his eyes from the door, willing her to come back. He saw a raven fly by. The messenger of death.

The fox came to the door and looked at him. With a clear voice it said, "You are useless, you let this happen. She could have left you there to die, and now she's dying because you aren't strong enough to help her."

"No, I didn't...I can't move..I would...I will…" Azriel rambled to the fox. "Please help her," he pleaded.

"That's your job," was all the fox said as he turned and trotted away.

* * *

In his fevered dreams it wasn't Kyla but Morrigan who was being tortured. She was pulled into the throne room of the Court of Nightmares and stripped naked while Eris looked on laughing. Azriel wanted to stop it but had no body to act. He was only shadow, twisting and turning between the sneering fae. He couldn't swoop into block the blow to Morrigan's beautiful body and the kicks broke through the mist and strike her. She didn't cry, she wouldn't plead. She simply took the beating while a cold fury boiled in her eyes. She seemed to look right into Azriel's soul even though he had no body. Those dead eyes confirmed his worst fear.

"I needed you, and you weren't there."

* * *

A loud clang startle Azriel from his fevered sleep. His eyes flew open but he couldn't see anything in the dark cabin. Night had fallen, well, Dark had come. The fire was out in the grate, but someone shuffled through the cabin.

"Kyla?" he whispered to the darkness. There was a pause and he feared it was the male who had returned to the Cabin and he had just given himself away. Finally there was a small sound from the fireplace.

"Yes. It's me. I'm here," was all she said.

A sharp scratch cut through the darkness and a flame burst to life. Azriel stared at it in disbelief as she put the flame to the kindling and a small fire burst into life. She remained crouched by the fire feeding the flames as they grew. Light filled the small room and Azriel's stomach fell as he took in the sight of her.

Her hair was torn and matted. Blood and mud clotted together and chunks were missing where it had been ripped out. A stream of blood had dried down the side of her face from a gash on her brow. One eye was black and swollen causing her to turn her head from side to side to look with her good eye. Her lip was split and there was blood at the corners of her mouth, likely from biting her tongue.

Azriel had seen these injuries before, just never on a young woman. A young woman who was still alive.

Kyla reached up and gripped the stones on the chimney above the fire, blood and dirt under broken fingernails, and used them for stability as she rose stiffly. She sucked in air quickly as a pain jolted through her and swayed on her feet briefly, controlling a wave of dizziness. When it passed she blinked rapidly to get her bearings and then turned to Azriel who lay on the bed.

"I got it. The Corasnow. I just need to boil it up into a mash, then we'll see if it works." She paused and then said as an afterthought, "Or if it kills you." She closed her eyes again and seemed to build up the energy to start moving again.

Azriel just stared with concern as she reached for the kettle and then limped over to the bucket by the door. Her other arm clutched her side and she hunched over in pain as she moved. She slowly bent down and spilled much of the water as her hands unsteadily poured it into the kettle. She limped back to the growing fire and hung the kettle again, then reached for the table and she slowly lowered herself onto the stool. Rain had started to fall outside, a heavy pattering could be heard on the roof.

"You're hurt," Azriel said stupidly. She just stared at the fire, not saying anything at all. Azriel hoped she hadn't even heard him stating the obvious.

"Yeah." She sounded more resigned than sad. Like this was nothing out of the ordinary. She almost chuckled when she added, "Don't worry, you're still in the lead for the most smashed up person here." Azriel was horrified that she could joke after what had happened to her. She didn't seem broken or shocked.

"This has happened before," he realised. Kyla didn't confirm or deny. She just stared at the fire, holding one arm to her side. A single tear fell down her cheek but nothing else moved as she wandered through the memory.

"Yes." She paused. "The worst part is: he always says he's going to kill me, and he never does."

* * *

Azriel fell into a deep sleep when Kyla applied the poultice of Corasnow. His body greedily absorbed the juice of the plant and the swelling in his leg finally subsided. The redness around the wound on his chest retreated and his appetite returned. He woke with a clear head and empty stomach. Stiffly, he pushed himself up onto his shoulders and looked around.

Kyla lay on her stomach on the hearth in front of the fire, a blanket folded underneath her. She wore loose fitting pants but her shirt lay crumpled on the floor next to her. Her torso was bare but for a damp cloth that was draped over her back. The cloth was stained a yellow-bruise colour and splotches of red showed through in places. She was trying to clean the slashes on her back and had no one to administer the solution. For some reason this made Azriel more angry than thinking of the beating. Not only had she endured that torture alone, she now treated herself alone, he fumed. Except she's not alone. He's here, doing nothing.

With that thought Azriel sat all the way up for the first time in...months? He had no idea why his body wouldn't heal itself. His magic should have recovered by now and begun to work through his injuries. He dragged his legs back and wedged the pillows and blankets until he could rest his back against the wall at the head of the bed without putting any pressure on his ragged wing. He reached for the water always ready on the nightstand and drank it all down.

Kyla stirred by the fire and turned to her side. The stained cloth slipped from her back revealing a dozen or more fresh slashes, overtop countless scars from previous sessions. Azriel couldn't tear his eyes away from her back as she sat up, reached for her shirt and slowly pulled it over head and gently off her shoulders. She sat for a moment and sighed deeply before getting to her knees and rising slowly. She looked over at the bed and saw that Azriel was sitting up and watching her. Instead embarrassment, her eyes sparkled when she took in the sight of the fae. A small smile crept onto her face and it made Azriel's heart melt as he thought of how this fragile human girl could not be broken. Her strength gave him strength, and he felt all distrust melt away.

"Alright," she said by way of greeting. "Here we go." She limped over to the shelves and pulled down some jars and boxes. She built a tray of cheese, bread, some dried fruit and meat. She filled two cups of tea and dragged the stool over to the bed before placing the tray on the bedside table between them. Without saying anything else, she took a mug and handed it to Azriel before raising the other to him.

"Cheers," was all she said. They touched cups and swallowed their own servings of the healing tea down. They devoured the platter of food together.


	7. Trust

**Chapter 7**

Kyla stood by the small stream near the cabin and felt the sun shining on her face. She closed her eyes and breathed in the quiet, wiggling her toes in the mud. The ground was cool and moist from the recent rain. She untied her pants and let them fall, then slowly reached up with her good arm and pulled her shirt over her head. The other arm hung limp, not broken but not right either. As she stood naked in the sun she reached for the knife and brought it up to her neck. She yanked at a fistfull of hair and hacked it off crudely. Relief crept into her body as the weight that pulled on her tender scalp was eased, and her short hair blew freely in the wind. Almost meditative, she held her hand out to the breeze and let the wind pull the dirty, bloody hair from her fingers. She wished the memory of what had happened could blow away so easily.

The girl stepped into a shallow pool in the creek and sat down carefully. She sighed

with pleasure as she let the cool water wash over her broken body. Gently, she scrubbed the dried blood off her face and ran her fingers through her cropped hair. The cool water brought relief to the damage done. After washing she rose from the creek and let the sun dry her while she sat by the stream in silence.

She felt numb. She had long ago moved through other emotions. Shame, anger, fear, pain. Between visits she sometimes felt determination. That the next time he came she would fight harder, she had thought. She read books on combat and understood the technique but it was difficult to put into practice against such a force. For a time she even trained, running daily through the woods, learning backflips, and doing hundreds of push-ups. But even at her peak she was still a human woman and he a male fae. He would always be stronger.

But Kyla took pleasure her small victory. By chance she had her knife in her hand and had left a mark across his face. She smiled to herself at the thought of the blood pouring out of his cheek. Oh, he was particularly vicious this time. But she landed one blow. One. Next time, she would land two.

She shook the remaining water from her short hair and dressed with care. The walk back to the cabin was slow; she limped heavily and rested often against trees along the way. She gave one tree a particularly wide berth. The ropes still rested at the base of the makeshift whipping post, but the rain had washed away all the blood.

The door to the cabin was open letting in the fresh spring air and she slowly hobbled up the steps with a bucket of water in her good arm. She set the bucket down by the door as she entered the cabin, and began to clear things off the table. She hadn't even noticed Azriel was awake.

"Your hair!" he cried out in horror. She sighed and ran her fingers through it again, careful to not pull on any scabs forming.

"Don't worry," Kyla chuckled. "It hasn't gone far." She pulled a bubbling pot off the fire and brought it to the table. "Do you think can eat something today? We need to get some food into you to help with the repairs." She was hoping if she kept focused on him, she wouldn't have to think about her own injuries. She didn't want to talk about what had happened, what he had witnessed. She knew he had so many questions, but she had no answers. They were the same questions she asked herself everyday.

Kyla served the stew and brought it over to Azriel in bed. He was able to hold the bowl and feed himself now that the fever had broken, but he was very weak and tired easily. She dragged the table to the bed so it felt like they were sharing a meal together, and slowly lowered herself into the chair, closing her eyes with relief as she settled in. She saw concern growing on Azriel's face as he took in her disheveled appearance. Kyla might feel embarrassed at her current state, but she was beyond caring. She braced for the questions she knew were coming.

"How injured are you?" he asked suddenly. That surprised her. He didn't ask who the male was and why he was here, or whether or not he was coming back. He didn't demand to know what she was hiding, or why she protected him. She looked up from her bowl, still chewing, and contemplated how much to reveal to him. There was no point in keeping secrets.

"I think my ribs are cracked. And something is torn in my knee, it hurts to put weight on it in a bend." She paused before going on. "My arm is nearly useless. I can barely lift it let alone hold anything." As if she were giving a weather report, she simply went on eating her stew. She didn't need anything from him, but he had asked so she told it like it was.

Azriel paused in eating and, strangely enough, looked intrigued. "Your arm, is it broken?"

"I don't think so. I can't localise the pain and there's minimal swelling. I'm able to move my wrist and fingers but not lift the arm," she answered not looking up from her stew.

"It might be your shoulder then. Did you - did he - did-how... Was it pulled on?" He struggled through the question. Kyla gave him a grateful look. He tried to depersonalise the cause, but still root out the mechanism of injury.

She swallowed and said, "I don't really know how it happened. It's all a blur." He nodded at that and she could see the muscles in his cheek tense like he was keeping his temper in check.

"Can I see it? I mean, would you mind if I checked the shoulder? If it's dislocated, I might be able to reset it."

Kyla stared at him blankly. Could he check the shoulder. This was it, this was a test. Up until this moment she had all the power. He was weak, vulnerable, and she controlled if he lived or died. But now he knew. Now he saw that really she was the weak one. Human. Trapped. Nothing more than a victim, waiting in this Cabin at the mercy of whoever comes and whatever happens.

She thought about what she knew about Azriel. She was intimately familiar with every inch of his warrior body. She had washed, sewed, moved, patched, and cleaned every part of it. But other than that, he had been too feverish to share much about himself. She didn't know anything except that he was fae, and that he was male. Those were the only features she knew about the other one too. But when she looked in Azriel's eyes she saw only true concern. She saw that he had an opportunity to give back for all she had done for him and that he wanted to help, but was painfully aware of what had just happened to her. She bit her lower lip and considered it a moment longer. He didn't push.

"Yes," she said before she lost her nerve. Her hand had started shaking and she put the spoon down on the table and rose to approach him. She sat on the floor with her back to him and pulled the sleeve off her injured arm but left the shirt around her neck and draped across her diagonally. She stared at the door with her jaw clenched, willing herself not to pull away.

"I can see that it's bruised where the bones meet. I'm fairly certainly it's out of joint." She heard him take a deep breath. "Can I touch your shoulder?" he asked politely.

Her chin trembled. She didn't trust herself to speak without wavering, so she pinched her lips together and nodded softly. He very gently placed his hand on her back and shoulder and she flinched slightly but stopped herself from pulling away. He began to probe gently around the joint, massaging the muscles slightly to assess the damage. She turned her head and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Kyla," he said softly. "I can put it back, but you need to take a deep breath and relax your shoulders. The muscles are too tense for me to move it back and I risk doing more damage."

Kyla started panting as panic began to take hold. She was trembling under his hands and it took all her willpower to not scream and leap up from the floor. Then she felt something furry under her hand and opened her eyes to see the fox crawl into her lap. He licked her face reassuringly and nuzzled into her chest. She brought her good arm across and held the fox in a deep embrace, burying her face in its soft fur. She let out a deep exhale as Azriel lifted her dead arm and bent it at the elbow. With one hand on her shoulder and the other twisting her arm he deftly jerked and popped it in place. A sharp pain shot through her body and she yelped but didn't pull away. The instant relief made her head swim and she swayed in her seat before Azriel reached out to steady her. As her breathing slowed she opened her eyes and released the fox from her embrace.

The fox licked her face once more and then nimbly hopped up on the bed and settled down for nap.

Kyla lifted her arm gently and twisted her wrist.

"Easy. It can pop out again while the muscles around it are weak," cautioned Azriel. "We'll need to make you sling so you can take the weight off the shoulder while it heals."

Kyla turned to look up at him from her spot on the floor. "Thank you."

Azriel smiled down at her. "It was nice to be able to return the favour. I owe you a life debt that I don't know I can ever repay. I'm glad you trusted me to help you."

That surprised Kyla. She hadn't realised how much he noticed, or what he could read off her face. She raised her eyebrows but said nothing as she returned to the chair at the table, keeping her wounded arm close to her chest. Without any prompting he offered her another tidbit.

"I'm an Illyrian warrior and I've been in many battles over five hundred years. Dislocated shoulders are fairly common when a warrior's shield arm takes a bad blow. Knowing how to put them back together is an important skill."

She wanted to ask him more, but she also didn't want to return the favour by sharing anything about herself. There wasn't anything to tell, so she knew he would ask about the fae male who had tortured her. She didn't want to talk about that.

But instead Azriel picked up his bowl and spoon and began eating again.

"You're five hundred years old?"

Azriel's smile reached his eyes as they continued to eat.


	8. I just 'am'

**Chapter 8**

For the first time since he arrived at the cabin, Azriel saw Kyla go to sleep. His body was still tired but he had done nothing but sleep for what felt like months. Kyla, however, had reached the end. She had been nursing him non-stop and now she had her own injuries to tend to. She hadn't even finished eating before he saw her head nodding at the table.

"Why don't you get some rest?" he suggested gently. She looked up, trying to blink away the sleep and then nodded gently.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked. Always putting him first, he thought. Why? What did she have invested in his health?

"I'm not really sleepy, so maybe you have a recommendation from your library?" he asked. She actually smiled mischievously at that.

"Well I have an excellent new release on farm management. It's surprisingly relevant," she said with a grin. Azriel was again stunned by her smile and attitude. She could barely hold her head up but managed to see the humour in her situation and smile. How long had she been going through this, he wondered. Had this all become habitual, or did she cope by talking to foxes and rescuing strangers from the forest? He knew seasoned soldiers who had crumbled under less stress.

Azriel smiled back, "How about your favourite? I'd like to read that one."

Kyla rose and went the shelf immediately plucking the book off with hardly a glance. She hesitated before giving it to him and he thought she spotted a small blush under her bruises. She looked down at the cover and Azriel could see the pages were dirty and worn from hundreds of reads.

"I don't think you'll like it, but this is it. It's actually a children's book. Each chapter is a different story of make-believe and imaginings. I think I always liked it so much because none of it is real, and when I read it I can pretend I am far away from here." She let out a small chuckle and when she looked up her eyes were sparkling with that sense of humour she carried with her. "It think they're actually called 'fairytales', if you can believe it."

Azriel didn't often let his emotions show, but Kyla seemed to pull down his defenses with her youthful innocence. He smiled and said, "I think that sounds great."

In actual fact, the book was fascinating as it touched on events that had actually happened. Fairytales, indeed. It brought back fond memories as he tried to sort out the fiction from the actual events in his mind.

Kyla slept on her side under a heavy blanket by the fire. It had remained Dark outside for some time but he used the lamp that never ran out of oil to read. He was deep in thought when Kyla jerked suddenly and called out. Azriel sat up quickly and looked around for an intruder, but the room was quiet save for the crackling of the fire. Then Kyla screamed and sat bolt upright. She immediately clutched her side and keeled over panting heavily through her teeth, her forehead resting on the wooden floor. Her hair was long again, having grown out overnight. It fell down off her shoulder forming a tent around her head.

"Kyla? Kyla, it's alright," he reassured her softly from across the room. He wished he could get up and comfort her. He had no idea what he would do, but it had to better than just sitting there and calling to her.

"Kyla, look at me," he ordered. After a few breaths she lifted her head and looked at him with an incredible sadness in her eyes. She was having trouble slowing her breathing as she could only take small breaths with her broken ribs. "It was a dream, nothing more. It's alright, you're safe here." Too late he realised his mistake. Her eyes darkened and she looked around with a cold hate. She slowly sat up and crawled into the rocking chair with the blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

"I used to think that too," said Kyla. "I was never hungry, never cold. When I wanted to go out the sun would shine, and when I needed to wash my clothes the rain would fill my basin. But when he showed up, everything was shattered."

Azriel watched her, wondering if she would go on. Talking about trauma was an important part of healing. He knew this for himself, and from his friends. He had witnessed what keeping it inside had done to Feyre, and how difficult it had been for Rhys to help her put back the pieces.

"Why did you cover for me? I'm a stranger and you could have ended it if you had told him who was in the Cabin. What secrets are you protecting?"

She stared at the flames and shook her head slowly. "It wouldn't have mattered. He can't enter the Cabin anyway. That infuriates him; that there's a spell here he cannot break. So he waits outside for me to come out. Then he wants to know who I am, and why I'm here. My answer is always the same, but he never believes me. He wants to know who's protecting me." She paused, leaving Azriel to turn that information over in his mind. "One time he accused me of being a powerful faery queen in disguise. He said I wasn't aging so I must be immortal. When he was on that theory I used to imagine that I really was a faery queen and my powers were locked away by an evil curse. And when I was free I would revisit all the pain he had put me through, ten-fold." No smile touched her face this time. This was not a light-hearted fantasy she read in her children's book.

"I'm not as strong as you think," she said, looking straight at Azriel. She looked back to the fire and went on. "I would have told him everything to get him to stop. But I have no answers. I don't know why I'm here, and I don't know who cursed this place. And I don't where he came from or what he's hoping to find here." She looked back to Azriel then, daring him to tell her how he got here. But Azriel didn't know either. He had been lost in battle and disoriented. He didn't know where he was.

"So why don't you run? Leave this place and be rid of it?" he asked. Kyla stared hard right into his eyes and he saw a fury burning low in her face.

She ground her teeth together and then said through a clenched jaw, "I can't."

Azriel gave her a questioning look and was about to speak when she elaborated. "I've tried. I've tried everything. I know every inch of this forest. I've walked off in all directions. I've followed the creek so that I couldn't turn in circles. But no matter how long I walk, I always end up back here. I've tried sleeping out there, and when I wake I'm back at the Cabin. I've tried mapping it out, but if I write anything down it's gone almost immediately." A corner of her mouth lifted at that. "If I could write things down I could track the passage of time, which we've already learned is not acceptable. Same with the hair. I can never cut it because then I could use how long it takes to grow out as a form of measurement." She absentmindedly ran her fingers through the now clean, healthy locks. That's why she had cut it off, knowing it would be grow back nicer than the tangled mess he had left her with.

"I've climbed that ridge behind the Cabin and I can see that there's more out there, but I can never get there. So here I stay. The larder never empties, the woodpile is always full. The forest provides and the books renew. I had everything a girl could want and feared nothing. Then he appeared one day, and my sanctuary became a prison. A living hell. I'm not alive, but I can't die. I just 'am'."

The weight of that hit Azriel like a lead ball. It settled low in his stomach and he thought he might lose his meal. A nightmare he couldn't imagine. Or could he? He had spent eleven years of his life locked in his father's basement. He wasn't allowed to fly or train though his Illyrian instincts pulled on him incessantly. Then there was the time Rhysand had locked them all in Velaris to protect the city while he was tormented for fifty years Under the Mountain. But that was luxury, boredom, compared to what Kyla described. It a miracle she hadn't gone insane. He doubted he could have endured the same.

Kyla just kept staring at the fire like she had forgotten he was even there. Azriel thought she had maybe fallen asleep when she suddenly spoke.

"So how did you get here?" she asked, looking up at him.

"I fell. From the sky."

"Exactly. The one direction I haven't tried: up. And when those wings are healed, that's where we're going." She gave him a sidelong glance with what he come to believe was her signature look of mischief. His mouth fell open as he put the pieces together.


	9. Physics

**Chapter 9**

Kyla stomped back into the Cabin after filling up the wash basin outside with hot water. Her limp was less pronounced but she had one arm in a sling as directed by Azriel and her ribs still made her hunch to one side. She dropped the bucket by the door and said across the room. "So, have you worked up the courage to do this?"

Without waiting for an answer she pulled the rocking chair over to the bed. Azriel had kicked the covers off and sat up on his elbows in bed. He wore only some short pants, and a large bandage wrapped around his torso. Kyla reached up and pulled down a wooden bar tied between two ropes. The ropes came together in a point and then ran up to the ceiling and over one of the ceiling joists then back down to the bar. The system connected to another rope that was padded around his legs, so the whole contraption looked like a makeshift hammock.

"Alright," she opened. "I'm broken, you're broken, so neither one of us is in good shape right now. But if we do this together we can make it work." She smiled at him reassuringly. Azriel saw a light spark in her eye that he had never noticed before. She was excited to try this and see if her contraption worked.

"Just hook the arm from your broken wing side through the wooden bar. Then lock it off in your elbow so that the weight is hanging off your skeleton and the not the muscles. That will reduce the strain from being transferred to your back muscles, and thus your wings. I'll pull on the other end and lift you from the bed." She said it with a confidence Azriel found infectious.

"There's no way you can lift me with one arm," he stated.

"Well not with that attitude!" Kyla laughed. It was fake humour designed to reassure him that he wouldn't crash to the ground and cause more damage. But Azriel couldn't help but smile too as he reached for the bar.

"Here we go." She pulled gently on the loose end of the rope that ran through the rafter. Nothing happened. She braced her feet wider and pulled down with more weight behind it, as Azriel pushed off the bed. He grunted as his torso lifted off and he reached for the rocking chair. Kyla lowered the rope swing slowly as he maneuvered himself to the chair. When his butt touched down she released the rope and helped guide his wings between the spindles on the chair. In this way he could sit up without crushing the delicate appendages.

Azriel was breathing heavily from the effort but was ecstatic to be out of the bed.

"It worked!" he exclaimed. "How did you think to do that?"

"Physics!" Kyla answered. "The weight is distributed over the bars multiplying the strength applied to the end of the rope." Azriel raised his eyebrows. She shrugged, "I read about it, in a book."

Azriel grinned at her and looked up at the set up in the ceiling. Kyla unhooked the ropes with one arm and slowly lowered his leg to the stool she had placed in front of the rocking chair. She then set about stripping the sheets from the bed and carrying them outside. Her washing tub wasn't very big but she could do one sheet at a time.

The sheets were hanging to dry in the breeze and Kyla sat in the doorway with her nose in a book again.

"I find it amazing that after all this time, you still enjoy reading as much as you do," Azriel said to her. She closed the book on her fingers to keep her spot and looked out at the hanging laundry.

"I suppose. But I do like reading about new ideas and solutions to things. I'm always hopeful that it'll spark an idea on how I might get out. But in the meantime I just keep reading."

"What are you reading about now?"

"General K'vanyk's personal account of the invasion of Xian. I find it interesting because his observations differ from Commander Banus' own recounting, where he stated that the forces snuck in through the mines. K'vanyk thinks quite highly of himself when really he was fool and needlessly cost the lives of more than three thousand foot soldiers." Kyla frowned at the text in the book like she could send the long-dead general a disapproving glare.

Azriel didn't know how many more surprises he could take. She had knowledge of war tactics as well? He racked his memory for what he knew about the invasion of Xian and had a vague recollection of the tunnels trapping the soldiers before they ever reached the citadel. It was a complicated battle that held many surprises, almost as many as this human girl before him.

"I take it you would have done differently?" he prompted.

"Well, that's easy to say after-the-fact, but yes, I would not have used the tunnels. Well I would have, but not in that way. Banus had used Lumos faeries to build the tunnels, which as you know leave behind a highly flammable trace element that can ignite with the smallest spark. He had built a wall of fire around himself." Kyla's eyes once again sparkled with intensity as she worked through her plan. "K'vanyk was arrogant and couldn't see this advantage, and instead of quite stealth he marched his whole forces straight into the trap."

"But you wouldn't have done that?" Azriel asked with eyebrows raised.

"Well no. Too obvious. I would have started the fight from within," Kyla answered.

"With what? There were no other allies."

"The humans."

"What?"

"The humans were within the castle already."

"Yes, but they were slaves."

"Exactly." She eased herself from the sitting position and started towards the sheets. "Never turn your back on someone who has nothing to lose."

Azriel couldn't tell if it was a warning, or a threat.

* * *

"Ready for the next phase?" Kyla asked Azriel expectantly. She had been grinding Jurcimi root since the Light returned and had filled a bucket with the grey powder. She placed it next to a bucket of mud and some torn up sheets. "Now that the swelling has gone down, we can better protect the bones in your leg from impact while they heal. We're going to encase it in dried mud and the Jurcimi root will set it in place."

"Is this a joke?" Azriel asked. In all his war camps he had never heard of a healer doing such a thing. But then again, he had never had to wait this long for a faery's bones to heal. Healers would arrive eventually and piece them back together overnight. His leg, his wings...nothing was mending and he didn't know why. His powers should have recovered by now but he couldn't heal himself, and he couldn't hear Rhys through their connection. Everytime he reached out he was met with a muffled silence like someone had thrown a blanket over his head and he couldn't get out. But now that the fever passed and he had to lay awake in pain, he was becoming increasingly frustrated with his broken body.

"Well, it might turn into a joke if this doesn't work, but for now, I vote we give it a try. What have you got to lose?" she added. Azriel put his face in his palm and sighed. This place was driving him mad-how could she stay so positive?

"Alright, let's give it a go," he resigned.

Kyla pulled over the bedside table and lined it up where she thought his leg would end. Azriel used the rope to lift his body again and swing it around, while Kyla gently guided his leg so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed with the leg supported on the table. Azriel hissed when she began to remove the makeshift splint. Just sticks and cloth held it together. The whole leg was an ugly blue and purple. The bruise should have been yellowing and disappearing long ago, but it remained as though he had broken it yesterday.

"Well. That's nasty," offered Kyla. "I really hope those bones are in the right place, because we're about to lock them in."

She mixed the mud and Jurcimi root powder, slowly adding water until she reached a consistency she deemed appropriate. Then she dipped a strip of cloth in the mixture and pulled it out, scraping off the excess between her fingers.

"How did you know to do that?" Azriel asked. She didn't answer but she looked at him from under raised eyebrows. "Right. You read it in a book." Kyla grinned and began to wrap the strips around his wounded leg. Azriel watched as Kyla furrowed her brow, deep in concentration as she gently wrapped his leg in the mud and cloth. He noticed that she had this habit of biting her lower lip when she was thinking, and the tell made him wonder where her thoughts had wandered off to.

"Where will you go? When you leave here, I mean," he asked suddenly. She was so full of curiosity and intrigue but had no experience of the world beyond her little forest. She was this amazing contradiction of a vast wealth of knowledge and child-like naivete that he had trouble picturing in the world. He thought of all the people who would take advantage of her innocence and it made his blood boil. But Kyla didn't stop working as she thought through her answer.

"I've always wanted to go sailing," was all she said. She kept adding strips of cloth to Azriel's leg. In all the horrors he had seen, the torture he had endured, the torture he had inflicted, villages that had been burned, the people murdered, never had his heart felt as heavy as it did with that statement. Kyla had been trapped here for her entire living memory, but her dream was so simple. It infuriated him.

"That's it?" Azriel practically shouted. "You have read more books than I knew existed and know more about the world than thousand-year-old faeries, but all you want to do is go sailing?" Azriel's venomous tone stopped Kyla's work and she looked away. A shadow passed over her face and all trace of humour faded away. Azriel regretted bringing it up.

"Dreams are a dangerous thing, especially without hope. You find yourself dwelling on them, and forgetting the life you have before you. I've dreamt a lot about those things I've read. Then I open my eyes and look at the same four walls I always have and know that I'll never see or experience them. But what of it? What should I do? Just waste away in a dream?" she barked a bitter laugh. "Oh I tried that. I tried just doing nothing. Not eating, not drinking, not moving. Turns out rotting takes more time than you'd think in a cursed Cabin where time has no meaning."

Silence hung between them. Kyla got up to fetch more water and carried the pail back to her seat. But she remained standing and stared down Azriel.

"I have no more dreams, only nightmares. But I want to go sailing." She stared at Azriel as if she were challenging him to contradict her. He felt her eyes boring into him and almost squirmed under her gaze. He broke first and looked away, feeling embarrassed for some reason. She sat down abruptly and continued building the cast.

Azriel made up his mind on the spot and spoke without thinking. "I am a shadowsinger. I can see and hear things others cannot. I use all these shadows that surround me to learn the secrets of the world. I work as a spymaster for the High Lord of the Night Court, and have done that since he came into power hundreds of years ago. Little escapes my notice. Sometimes I learn things about people, before they even know themselves." Azriel reached out and placed a hand on Kyla's. She stopped working and looked at him. "Never have I heard of this place, or of a human girl locked away. I don't know how this is possible, that I never even picked up a whisper. But I swear to you I will do everything in my power to find out, and so you can dream again."

Kyla's gaze was locked on Azriel as she absorbed what he offered. She said nothing, but nodded once.

Azriel didn't feel a burden with this promise but a lightness that he had something to offer her in return, that maybe he could free her from this nightmare. She didn't jump for joy, or weep tears of gratitude. She simply kept on working and then said, "What shadows?"


	10. Run

**Chapter 10**

Kyla showed Azriel the deep spot at the creek where she usually washed. He was using the wooden crutches she had built him and had become reasonably adept at moving across the rough terrain with them. His shattered leg was protected by the heavy clay cast, but his wing still hung loose and limp from his back. The sun was shining but there was a hint of autumn in the air. Some of the leaves had turned red or yellow making a beautiful mosaic of colour in the forest.

"Don't you dare get that cast wet!" she instructed him as he looked forward to his first real cleaning in...time? How much time? Two dozen books. Fourteen winters. Days and nights of no defined length. At first Azriel lay on his back with his head and shoulders floating in the stream. He used the soap to wash his hair and body, and Kyla used the bucket to rinse him off. He hobbled to a nearby boulder to sit while she refilled the bucket and brought it up to him. Azriel didn't move but sat there with his arms crossed, fidgeting a little. He looked like he was struggling for something to say.

"What is it? What do you need?" Kyla asked.

"I don't mean to be rude but could I have a little privacy for this next part?"

Kyla looked at him incredulously but a smile crept onto her cheeks and up to her eyes. She tried to hold it back but it just made her face shine even more.

"You were unconscious for a long time...there's nothing I haven't seen before," she tried to say with a straight face. But the laughter in her face gave her away and she had to bite her lip to keep from giggling. Azriel did not find this funny at all and he straightened his shoulders and looked around the forest. At that Kyla really did laugh out loud.

"There's certainly no one here to spy on you! Believe me, I checked," she joked about her own situation. She dropped the bucket and soap by his feet and then crossed her arms and stepped back.

"Inside, when I was sick, it was different. Don't get me wrong, I fully appreciate everything you did for me, but now I am capable and...conscious...and I...would like a moment. Please."

"Fine," Kyla said with a smirk. "If you say so. But if you fall I don't think that I can pick you up again. You're really heavy, you know that?" she called over her shoulder as she walked away.

Kyla walked over to where she had carried Azriel's leathers and began undoing buckles and clasps so he could put them on over this clothes. The deep blue stones mesmerized her as she rubbed her hands over them.

"What are these called again?" she shouted over to where Azriel was washing.

"Siphons," he called back. "They're used to channel my power. A warrior usually has only one or two, but Cassian and I have seven each." He tried to sound humble in this statement, but there was a hint of pride in his voice.

"So is that where your shadows come from? Is that why you don't have any now, because you haven't been wearing the Siphons?" she asked. Azriel didn't answer right away as he considered the question.

"No," he said remorsefully. "The Siphons do not create the power, just channel it. They help me focus it...I don't know where the shadows have gone."

Kyla let out a huff while she stared at her reflection in the stones. "An incredibly powerful faerie has landed on my doorstep, and this wretched place has broken him too." She shook her head in frustration.

A cough sounded behind her and Kyla spun on her guard. But it was Azriel standing in his clothes some water still dripping from his hair. He used one crutch like a cane but could move fairly easily now the leg was supported by the cast.

"Hey careful! That leg may be feeling better but I don't want to start over," she cautioned him as she handed over the leathers.

"Thank you for taking care of these," Azriel said as he took a piece and strapped it to his body. "You didn't even know what they were and you treated them well. Just like you didn't know me and showed me the same courtesy."

Kyla didn't know what to say to that. She blushed and looked at the ground, scuffing the leaf litter with her foot. "Is that not normal? Is that not what people do out there?" she asked innocently.

Azriel wouldn't look in her eye with that direct question. He continued putting on the armor until he resembled the warrior she had found on the forest floor.

"Actually, no. Not everyone would. Particularly a human for a fae. Things have been...tense recently. There was a war. Still some battles. Each side has done...terrible things. It's hard to find common ground."

"Oh, so have I helped the enemy? Because if so, this just got really awkward," she joked as usual. Azriel gave her a genuine smile.

"No. No I don't think so," he said. "But I am missing a clasp for this arm piece, so that's kind of like sabotage. Maybe you're secretly a spy?"

"A spy of the spymaster? Well that's a plot twist!" she laughed. Kyla turned to the Cabin. "You stay here and enjoy the sun. Use it to charge up that pretty jewelry and I'll get the clasp."

"It's not jewel—"

"Whatever you say!" Kyla cut through the trees back to the Cabin, the red and gold leaves blocking her view until she reached the outhouse at the back. She was smiling to herself thinking of how much Azriel had improved since he was able to get outside. It was almost like the sun really was recharging him. But he was tired when he returned to the Cabin and could barely finish his meal before falling asleep.

Maybe it's the Cabin, she thought. Maybe the building that kept the other fae male out was trying to keep Azriel's power out too. That could be why he wasn't healing. The Cabin kept Azriel sick because she had let him in, but the other fae was locked out. The other fae...was standing at her door.

Kyla dropped to the ground immediately and ducked behind the woodpile. Panic swelled up in her chest and she struggled to catch her breath. She looked back behind her and could just make out the boulder that Azriel was seated behind. Azriel would try to fight him and he wasn't strong enough yet. Kyla couldn't let the two meet or else they would both die. No, that's not true; she wouldn't die, but he definitely would. She snuck a peek at the Cabin and saw that the male had heard her scramble for cover and was approaching the woodpile with a disgusting sneer on his face. She had to run past him to lure him away from Azriel. But he would certainly catch her, she didn't stand a chance. What choice did she have?

She leapt up from the woodpile and made a dash for the Cabin, knowing she'd never make it but hoping she could distract him long enough to get him away from Azriel. A loud crack rang out and she screamed as she felt the whip rip across her tender back. She fell to the ground and the fae was on her in seconds. His hand reached out and clasped her throat tightly. He lifted her off the ground like she was a child. Her feet were dangling and she was choking in his grip.

"Your time is up, little witch. I've figure it out and now I'm going to play my hand, even if you won't give me anything for it." He looked her up and down. "Well, nothing I haven't already taken."

A disgusting scar marked his face from his brow down to his chin. It was ragged and raw, like it wouldn't heal and was rotting his face. Her theory was confirmed. It was the Cabin. The Cabin was preventing the fae from using their powers, such as healing. That's why Azriel felt better when they walked in the forest. Azriel.

To her horror Kyla looked past the male's shoulder to see Azriel limping toward them with venom in his eyes. He had no weapons, not even the knife, but his purpose was clear. Through the trees she saw the rage in his body as he approached. She wanted to scream at him to run, that she would live through this as always and but if he were discovered the fae would kill him. She kicked at the fae holding her and struggled to get free. He laughed at her pathetic attempt to fight him but it turned into a scream of pain.

The fox had jumped onto his arm and closed its jaw around the fae's neck. He let go of Kyla who crumpled to the ground. She gasped for breath and scrambled to her feet while the male wrestled with the animal. The fox was too small to do much damage but it distracted the fae long enough for Kyla to stumble away.

"Run!" she cried with any breath she could find. She grabbed Azriel's arm and pulled him away from the fox and the fae, trying to overcome his instincts to fight. Together they half-ran, half-limped through the forest. They sloshed through the creek, Azriel's cast cracking and chipping as he hopped and limped as fast as he could. Kyla could have outrun Azriel but she wouldn't leave him. Branches caught in her air and scraped at their faces. She tripped over a fallen log and landed hard on her wrist. Azriel stopped to pick her up but she scrambled to her feet on her own.

"Keep going!" she ordered. Azriel spun and continued his painful escape. They didn't stop or look back but pushed on blindly.

Azriel was panting hard, his jaw clenched in pain. He nearly knocked Kyla over as she skidded to a stop. She clutched her side as she turned in circles, searching the forest around her. Her eyes were huge and jaw open as she looked around and up at the trees. Tears started pouring down her cheeks.

"Kyla, what's wrong? Are in you hurt?" Azriel grabbed her shoulder and spun her around to look at him.

"No. No, I'm not hurt. It's just - I've never been here before," she answered quietly. "He did it."

"What? What did he do? I heard you scream and came as fast as I could. I just - I couldn't run. I'm so sorry, I couldn't get there." He was rambling through his thoughts practically begging for her forgiveness. Kyla didn't even look at him. This moment wasn't about him, or his male instincts to protect, to fight. It was about her and her first steps away from the only place she had even known.

"We didn't break the spell, he did," she explained to the trees around her. She ignored the concern on Azriel's face and just looked around. "He said he had figured it out, and now he was going to take me... somewhere. So he did something to break the spell, but we ran. We ran through the door he opened." She looked at Azriel and then did something that surprised them both. She giggled.

Azriel just stared at her incredulously like she had lost her mind. But she couldn't stop laughing. She clutched her side as the movement sent pain shooting through her ribs and she collapsed to the ground in hysterics. Azriel didn't know what to say but couldn't see the humour in their situation. Between fits Kyla tried to explain.

"He did this!" she cried. "After all this time...planning, scheming, theories...it was him!" The thought made her want to vomit. She was laughing and crying at the same time, unable to process all the emotions that were flooding through her. Azriel had been leaning against the tree but pushed himself up and approached her.

"Kyla, we need to keep moving. He's healthy and can outrun us easily." He had gone into warrior mode, thinking only of the predator and their immediate defense. Kyla looked up at him and brushed the tears from her face, smearing blood and dirt across her cheeks. But instead of moving she froze when she looked at his armor.

"Azriel! Your Siphons, they're glowing!" she cried. Azriel brought up his arms and saw the cobalt shining slightly. His powers were returning.

He bent over to get Kyla on her feet, so he didn't see the arrow that came out of the trees. It missed his shoulder only because Kyla was rising, and instead embedded deeply in her thigh. Kyla screamed and clutched her leg as Azriel shoved her back to the ground to take cover. They crawled over to the boulder and scrambled to look around for the shooter.

"Where is he? I can't see -" but his cry was cut short when an arrow found his abdomen. Kyla looked over to see Azriel clutching his stomach as blood seeped out between his fingers.

"No no no no no no!" cried Kyla as she scrambled over to him. She reached for the wound and put pressure on it with both hands. It had caught the edge of his armor and hadn't gone that deep.

"Pull it out!" Azriel said through clenched teeth.

"What? No! It'll do more damage. We need to apply pressure to stop the bleeding."

"It's fine, I'll heal. Just do it!"

Kyla pursed her lips and didn't hesitate. She ripped the arrow straight out and quickly covered the wound. Another arrow cracked on the rock above their heads.

"You need to take cover!" shouted Azriel.

"No, it's fine, I need to shelter you. He won't kill me; he's aiming for you." The fae had unsettled business with her, but Azriel was expendable.

"How do you know he won't kill you? It really looks like he's trying to kill you. With arrows, currently," Azriel pointed out.

"Because then I win. He doesn't get what he wants," Kyla said, looking over her shoulder for the next shot.

"What? What could he possible want from you? What wouldn't you tell him?"

Kyla looked up from the wound with fire in her eyes. "My name."

Azriel was dumbfounded. A thousand emotions floated across his face from astonishment to disbelief, anger and pride. His thoughts tumbled together as he tried to figure her out. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and focus on their current situation.

"It's okay to let go of the wound. I can feel it healing," Azriel told her. Kyla nodded and released it but didn't move from her position above him. Instead she gritted her teeth and reached down to her thigh. She gripped the shaft of the arrow and broke it off. She let out a sharp groan and nearly passed out with the pain but Azriel put his arms up to catch her. She leaned into him with her eyes closed until she could gather herself. Azriel's voice pulled her back. "My power is returning, but we need time. We need to put some distance between us until I can winnow us out of here."

Kyla looked at him in confusion. "Windows? There are no windows here."

"Not windows, win - nevermind. Just run!" He lurched to his feet and began hopping and dragging his broken leg through the forest. Kyla lurched to her feet and ran after him, tripping over branches with her wounded leg, but kept herself between the fae and Azriel.

They pushed on, crashing through the trees, careless of where they were going. An arrow whizzed by above her head and she felt some smug satisfaction seeing it miss its mark entirely. Except instead of hitting Azriel it slammed into a large nest of sticks and leaves in the tree directly above. Winged faeries the size of birds fell out of the nest and landed on the ground before them. Azriel skidded to stop and changed direction, but it was too late. The angry faeries found the perpetrator and began to swarm them.

"What are they!?" cried Kyla. They were crawling up her legs and landing on her back. She swatted at the creatures trying to peel them off her. It like felt she had landed in a nest of spiders that were crawling all over her. The faeries were angry and they pulled at her hair and clothes and clawed at her skin.

Beside her Azriel was also engaged in a bizarre dance of squirming and writhing as he tried to keep them off his wings and back.

"They're Myotes! They won't stop while their nest is threatened. Don't let them sting you!" he shouted. He reached over and ripped away one climbing her shoulder as she bent down to grab a weapon. With a stick in one hand and a rock in the other she began to hit the Myotes out of the air. But there so many and for every one she knocked away, four more appeared. Azriel shoved her and yelled, "Keep running! We need to get away from the nest!"

They took off as best their broken bodies could manage, stumbling through the woods. Kyla couldn't see where she was going as she ducked her head to keep the Myotes off her face. They continued batting and swatting the faeries away as they ran, until the forest opened up before her. Just in time, Kyla skidded to a stop at the edge of a deep gorge with a river way below. She turned to yell for Azriel to stop but only saw a blur of armour as he crashed right into her, knocking her off the cliff edge.

Azriel wrapped his arms around her body as they fell together. Kyla didn't scream or struggle, but just looked right at Azriel with a calm wonder.

He winnowed.

* * *

Azriel took them to the back patio behind the townhouse. It took every bit of power he could gather, but he got them there. They landed with a crash on the stones next to the table and chairs. The Myotes that had been crawling on them had been winnowed as well and he quickly sat up to continue swatting them away. Kyla rolled over and scrambled to her feet looking around wildly and squirming with Myotes as well. She smacked at one on his wing and then batted it out of the air. She stomped on one right between his legs and whirled to knock another off his shoulder.

Azriel heard the doors bang open and saw Cassian and Mor run out to where he sat on the ground. Relief flooded through him draining the last of his energy, and he lay back on the stone feeling his wing crumple beneath him. But Kyla stood and assumed a defensive position between him and his friends. He almost smiled at the thought of Kyla taking on Cassian.

"It's alright, Kyla. It's alright," he gasped. "They're friends."

Kyla didn't back down but swallowed deeply and adjusted her stance. "You sure? Because I've got this rock and this stick, and I'm pretty sure I can make the big one at least flinch before he kills us," she said between breaths. Cassian snarled at her and unfurled his wings to their full width. Kyla's eyes went wide with fear and she dropped the stick and spun around. "On second thought, we should run. Get up, get up! We need to run!" She reached down and pulled at his arm. "Come on Azriel, you really need to get up!"

Azriel held her hand and tried to calm her down, "It's alright Kyla. We're home. We can stop," he mumbled weakly. He was beyond exhausted and couldn't lift his head. But his eyes went wide when he saw her wind up with rock as though she was going to slam it down on his face. A hand reached across his body and grabbed her wrist, throwing her aside. It was then he noticed the Myotes crawling out from behind his wing, headed for his face. He rolled and smashed it into the stones.

Mor was there suddenly, crouching over him with concern on her face. She ran her eyes over him quickly trying to take in the sight of him and tears spilled from her eyes.

"Az - Azriel, you're here…" she breathed. "We thought...we thought you were...we didn't know...we couldn't find you.."

Azriel reached out and closed one hand around hers. Rhys appeared above him and immediately began assessing his injuries. Cassian looked over and cringed when he saw Azriel's shattered wing. Everyone was talking at once.

"What the hell happened to you?" Cassian exclaimed.

"Where are you injured?"

"What's on his leg?"

"Where have you been?"

Feyre appeared at the door, followed by Nesta and Elain. Lucien had a sword in his hand as he raced across the patio. The chaos and shouting was overwhelming and Azriel squeezed his eyes shut to block out the sounds. Hands touched his wings and stomach and he could feel Rhys' healing power flow into him. It was too much and he twisted away to get them to slow down. As he jerked his head he looked over and saw Kyla on the ground, off to the side. She was staring at him, breathing hard, wide-eyed with fear. Her eyes were pleading but she didn't speak. He reached out to reassure her that everything was going to be fine.

But she wasn't fine. She was sweating profusely and couldn't catch her breath. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she lost consciousness. "No!" he cried and pushed his friends aside to get to her.

"Don't move Azriel! Stay still!" they cried, but he didn't listen and dragged his body closer to Kyla.

"No! Kyla, look at me! Open your eyes, Kyla. He doesn't win like this!" he collapsed within arm's length and reached for her hand. His vision was blurring and a numbness crept up his limbs as he reached the end of his energy stores. "You win," he mumbled before the darkness took him.


	11. Injuries

**Chapter 11**

Rhys and Feyre stood by the window staring out at the darkness and flickering lights of the city of Velaris. They didn't speak much and had their jaws clenched in stress as they processed Azriel's sudden return.

"Had it been anyone else, Azriel would have found them months ago," Rhys barked. "He's been out there this whole time."

"We didn't know, Rhys. It's not our fault. We looked, everywhere. We shouldn't blame ourselves...at least until we get the whole story." Feyre tried to console him but Rhys was wracked with guilt. His friend had been injured, suffering, and he hadn't been there for him. He saw Azriel fly off with the Lubelli aerial soldiers during the battle. He knew Azriel was weakening, they all were, so he should never have ordered him to take on that legion on his own. It was a brash move out of desperation, and it had cost his friend - his brother - his life. Or not.

After months of searching the Night Court had begun to accept the worst. Rhys couldn't reach him through the mental link. No emotion or sense that Azriel was out there. Of course there was always hope, but with no sign, no clues, no whispers, they'd had to continue with other matters. And with no shadowsinger to reach out into the dark places of the world...Rhys clenched his fist and brought his hand up to his face as he controlled his rage. He was wrenched from his thoughts as Amren stormed into the house.

The tiny fae had menace in her eyes as she took in the room: Rhys and Feyre standing by the window, Mor seated on the couch with her face in her hands, worry in her shoulders. Cassian leaned forward and stared into the fire. Elain had a book open on her lap but was looking at the wall, and Nesta was arranging food on a platter as though the presentation might encourage others to eat it.

"What the hell happened?" Amren demanded. They all looked up at her with vacant stares, each waiting for the other to speak. Cassian continued to gaze into the fire.

"His wing...did you see it? It was...ruined." Cassian looked like he was about lose whatever food he had managed to swallow earlier. Nesta came over and placed her hand gently on his leg.

"The healers are with him now. They'll know what to do. They saved your wings when they were in shreds, and I think yours were worse." But it did little to reassure him. The memory of the agony of his wings being broken, and then mended, was still raw in his mind.

"His wings wrap around a world that bursts into pieces," Elain said cryptically to the wall. Rhys had learned to listen to Elain's statements but not spend too much energy trying to understand them. She equal parts Seer and poet, so it was difficult to know what was prophecy and what was metaphor. He mulled over her statement briefly then filed it away.

Amren was getting impatient with the lack of information. "And the human? There was a girl with him? What of her?" she demanded.

Rhys took in a breath, "We don't know anything Amren. They're both unconscious and in rough shape."

"I thought they were fighting," Cassian interrupted as he stood and walked to the mantle. "It looked like they were struggling against each other, and then she took that rock and raised it to smash it down on Azriel's face. I knocked her away. Hard." He looked at them guiltily. "But she was aiming for the Myotes. She was trying to protect him." Then his eyes turned pleading. "I didn't know."

They looked to each other for answers but no one had anything to offer. There was a soft knock on the door and Nuala showed one of the healers in. He was a young fae, just barely one hundred. Rhys had been uncomfortable when he arrived as Madja's trainee, but she had reassured him that he was a gifted healer and would be supervised at all times. The young fae looked exhausted from his work, but also terrified to be speaking to the High Lord and Lady of Night, and the entire Inner Circle. They all stood expectantly, waiting for his report.

"Milord, milady. Madja sent me down to give you an update. She's still working on the human, but the Illyrian is resting." He stopped as if unsure whom he should be addressing, as the whole group as hanging off his every word. "Milord, perhaps we should speak in private. Appropriate protocol is to discuss a patient's health with only immediate family…"

Cassian stomped forward and screamed in his face, "To hell with your protocol, tell us what is going on!" Feyre stepped between them and gave Cassian a stern look.

"That's not helping, Cassian," she reprimanded.

Rhys nodded to the fae politely. "It's alright, we are his family."

The young fae looked extremely uncomfortable but swallowed and began his update. "Azriel has multiple cuts and scrapes that are all minor, except for a particularly large gash across his chest. It looks like it was caused by a short sword, or perhaps a dagger. However it had been cleaned nicely and closed with crude but effective stitches. The scab has only begun to form, suggesting it was a recent wound, so Madja would like to leave the stitches in until he regains the strength to heal the gash himself. She says whenever possible the fae should heal naturally, in order to train the body to take care of itself."

He spoke as though he were reciting a text he was memorising for a future exam. His careful speech was grating on Rhys' nerves and he wasn't the only one. But before he could say anything it was Nesta who spoke out.

"That's it? He arrived here spent and practically unconscious from some cuts and scrapes?" she spat out.

"Nesta…" Feyre murmured with a sigh.

The healer was practically trembling now. "Um, well, no. There was also a wound in his abdomen, presumably from an arrow, and a badly sprained wrist. But the major injuries were to his leg and wing. It took us some time to pull what was left of the cast off his leg. It was surprisingly resilient, made up of some mixture of mud and powder...It seems someone had tried to protect the leg while it was healing. The cast was clearly worn and faded, suggesting he had been wearing it for some time. But strangely the leg was still in bad shape. Madja found that while the bones were aligned properly they had only begun to heal. Based on the age of the cast, the bone recovery should have been much further along. We'll have to wait until he wakes to find out what happened. It was a bad break, and he'll need to stay off it for a while - "

"The wings!" interrupted Cassian. "What about his wings?" No one faulted him for asking; it was what they were all waiting for.

"One wing has minor damage but the other suffered multiple breaks and the skin had been ripped off in places. I can't imagine how painful it must have been. A makeshift splint had been attached to the major bones but the fingers were too small to secure. There was some residue of a herbal poultice left on it, perhaps trying encourage healing or control a small infection that had set in. I've taken a sample to do some research, but we rinsed it off in case it was a poison."

Cassian looked devastated and sat down hard on the sofa. "But he'll heal?" he asked hopefully. The healer nodded, "Yes, Madja is confident she can repair the wings with some time. I don't know how this is possible, but she says she's seen worse." Cassian just closed his eyes and put his head in his hands. They all said nothing as this information settled in.

"What about the human girl? You said Madja was still working on her," Rhys prompted.

"Yes, she's very sick. The venom from the Myotes sting is conflicting with the healing magic. The human body just isn't capable of handling that much poison, so Madja has been trying to draw it out. She sent Lucien to search for a specific herb I haven't heard of before. It's apparently quite rare since it's only really helpful for humans."

Rhys looked to Feyre for a moment, remembering how badly she had been hurt Under the Mountain, and how she would have died had he not used his magic to heal her broken arm. The memory made him smile, actually. He saw the true strength of humans in her that day.

"Humans are a lot more resilient than you might be giving them credit for," Rhys said as he turned back from Feyre. She gave him a small smile too, as she accepted the compliment. "But with this herb, Madja thinks she can save her?"

"It's hard to know. Her other injuries are swollen and infected from the poison as well, and were difficult for me to repair. I've patched her up, but we'll have to see if she can break the fever to get a sense of what's to come."

Cassian looked up questioningly, "Other injuries? What happened to her?"

The healer looked surprised that he didn't know already. He cleared his throat and described what he had found.

"She had some general scrapes and bruises likely from their escape, though that's just a guess right now. The tendons in her knee were damaged but they had already begun to heal, suggesting it was an older injury. Same with her shoulder, which had been dislocated as indicated by the healing pattern around the joint. And her ribs were cracked but hadn't moved out of place so there was minimal damage to her lungs. I pulled the head and bit of shaft of an arrow out of her thigh. The blood was fresh and the wound had been aggravated from continued use of the leg while the arrow was stuck in it."

Feyre shifted on her feet uncomfortably. "She ran with an arrow sticking out of her leg?" He shrugged but it was a likely explanation.

Mor raised her eyebrows. "I have to admit, I'm impressed."

"Do you still have the arrowhead?" Cassian interrupted again. "We might be able to use it to figure out who they were running from?"

"Yes, it's upstairs in a pan. It's not much but I recommend doing all you can to find out where they were." The healer paused again before looking straight at Rhys. He took a deep breath and then spoke. "There are other scars and older wounds. Some are very old. She would have received them when she was a child. You should know: the injuries are consistent with torture. She has been beaten, kicked likely, in the ribs, and she has scars on her wrists from being tied for long periods. And her back…"

His eyes were filled with sadness at the thought. "Her back is a patchwork of scars. There are fresh cuts on top." The healer finished with that, like he couldn't go on. He pursed his lips and shook his head before lowering his eyes. He looked back at Rhys when he added, "I think you might be right, milord. A lot tougher than I thought."

The room was frozen in silence. Cassian looked horrified and Amren crossed her arms as if she were already plotting what she do to the culprit. Elain had begun to silently weep in the corner and Nesta moved to hold her in an embrace. Their humanity was so fresh in their minds, the healer's report seemed to strike them in the core. None of them knew this human but they saw that Azriel had cared for her, and they arrived together.

Rhys could feel Feyre's mind spinning wildly. He knew what she was thinking. Images of Clare Beddor's body tied to the table, broken and bleeding, came to her mind. _Feyre stop. Don't think about that. This is different and we can find those responsible_. A sob escaped her lips and she fled out of the room. Mor moved to follow her but Rhys reached out and caught Mor's arm.

"It's a memory is all. From Under the Mountain. It just brought back a bad memory and she needs to work through it. Give her a minute," he instructed. Mor nodded and turned back to the healer.

"What should we do?" she asked.

"When Lucien returns with the herb we'll need to make it into poultice and change it regularly. You'll have to clean out the wound and tie a fresh bandage on several times a day. If we can get the fever under control, she might have a chance." She nodded at that and began to make her way out of the room.

"What about Azriel?" asked Rhys. "What can we do for him?"

"Azriel needs to rest and regain his strength. He's underweight so go easy on the food at first but ensure he's keeping it down. Then, when he's ready, he'll need someone to talk to. Someone to help him work through what happened." The healer finished with that and showed himself back upstairs to clean up.

Rhys didn't say anything right away, mulling over the possibilities in his head. Mor squeezed his hand and said, "I'll go up and get directions from Madja. I'll do all that I can. I don't want to have to tell Azriel we lost her." She took a deep breath and went upstairs.

Nesta pulled Elain to her feet and guided her upstairs to her room as well. Amren announced she was going to ensure there were clean bandages and put water on to boil. That left Cassian and Rhys in the room in silence.

Cassian looked over to Rhys as tears fell down his cheeks. "How did we let this happen, brother?"


	12. the human girl

**Chapter 12**

The late summer sun shone in through the windows of the room where they had brought the human girl. Feyre brought in a bowl of fresh water and used her magic to cool it to near freezing. She looked over to the mortal on the bed and saw that her fever continued to rage and that Mor was exhausted from her all-night vigil. Mor stood up from the edge of the bed and straightened her back with a groan.

"I don't know how you did it?" Mor said to the ceiling.

"Did what?" asked Feyre.

"Survived as a human," Mor clarified. "They're so fragile. I mean, is she even fighting? It's like she's getting worse."

Feyre pursed her lips and reached down to feel the girl's brow. Her skin was burning but her heart was strong and she could feel the life flowing through her.

"I don't know. I think if she has lived through what these scars tell us, she might be just resting now," Feyre offered. "We should lift her and change that dressing on her shoulder." Mor sighed and reached over to dip a fresh cloth in the basin. The females placed their hands on her the girl's torso and gently rolled her to her side, exposing her back and shoulders. She groaned slightly and her eyes fluttered. But Feyre and Mor were fixated on the girl's back. Shey said nothing as they took in the scars that crisscrossed back and forth with a fresh red welt across the top.

Mor looked to the girl's face in awe noticed her eyes were open.

"Hey there. It's okay, we've got you now. You're going to be fine," Mor reassured her. The girl blinked and tried to focus on the room. She was visibly confused and in pain. Feyre tried to work quickly at cleaning the Myotes sting on her back while Mor spoke to her in hushed tones. It was then Lucien walked in the door. He knocked quietly and stepped in.

"I found the herb Madja wanted. Took some doing but a merchant down by the wharf had some in a jar." He approached the bed to set the packet down on the table.

The girl suddenly jerked her body and let out a scream. She pushed away from the edge of the bed struggling to get away. Feyre snatched her hands back, worried that she had somehow injured the girl. Mor reached over and held her shoulders down.

"Hush now! Lie still. You'll make it worse!" she urged.

"No! No, please. Don't! Get away, get away! Don't!" The girl sobbed and tried to break free. She was so weak it wasn't hard for the fae to hold her to the bed. Mor looked pleadingly between Lucien and Feyre, but neither of them had any idea what was upsetting her.

Rhys burst into the room, "What's going on?"

Feyre and Mor were trying to calm the girl who was panicking on the bed. She twisted and screamed, begging them to let go.

"I have no idea. I just walked in and put the package down and she looked at me and started screaming," said Lucien. Rhys looked from Lucien to the girl who was quickly losing her energy.

Mor called over her shoulder, "Maybe you should go."

Rhys and Lucien were dumbfounded but the look Mor shot them and had them quickly backing out. The human gradually quieted down as sleep overtook her but the tears had stained the pillow, along with fresh blood where her wounds had opened again. Mor looked at Feyre and shook her head slightly, "What is her story?"

* * *

Feyre couldn't sleep that night. Something about this girl bothered her. The dots didn't line up. How could they have been hidden so well? Rhys had called in all his favours and had faeries searching for him in every Court.

Feyre found herself rising from bed and walking down the hall to the girl's room. The door was open and she could hear her raspy breathing as her body tried to stay alive. There was a whimper every now and then, and the girl tossed her head as if squirming to get away. Mor placed a damp cloth on the girl's brow, trying to keep the fever down. Without looking up she said to Feyre, "I couldn't stay by Azriel. It hurt too much to see him like that. This seemed like the only way I could help."

Feyre looked down at the girl's red face, and saw pain etched in the lines there. She continued to stare at her when she asked Mor, "Do you think she was helping Azriel, or chasing him?"

Mor looked at her, horrified. "How can you think that? You saw the way he acted when she collapsed. It was clear they were together."

"Perhaps. But for all his nuance and intuition, Azriel can be blind to things right in front if his face." Feyre looked pointedly at Mor who blushed and looked back down at the bed.

"That's different. And anyway, you're saying she was maybe playing him? As though she's the one who kept him away from us?" Mor asked.

"Well I doubt a human girl was holding one of the most powerful Illyrians warriors captive, but she may have had a part in it," Feyre retorted. She didn't know why she was so suspicious of the human. Was it the way the girl reacted to seeing Lucien? Perhaps she had been betrayed so often she lacked faith in the human capacity for empathy. She ground her teeth as she battled her instincts with rational thought. What was her reasoning? Was it because nothing in this situation added up?

"Let's just ask Azriel when he wakes up. I'm sure there's an explanation," suggested Mor.

"But does he know the truth? Or is he blind to it?" Feyre looked from Mor to the human. She stepped closer to the bed. "We don't need to ask. I can find out right now." She reached out with her mind and slipped into the human's head. The girl had no protection, no mental shields to block a Daemati, and besides which, Feyre was strong.

Feyre slammed into a wall of flesh and spikes. She yelped and bounced back, stunned that something had blocked her way. In front of her was a tangle of vines, twisting slowly like a flowing river. Here and there the vines would part and Feyre could hear shouting and panic on the other side. She ducked her head trying to see through and reached up to grab a vine and pull it back. She gasped when a thorn pricked her hand and she drew her hand back quickly.

"I wouldn't do that," warned a voice behind her. Feyre spun and took in the sight of a lush forest with a simple cabin in a small clearing. Smoke rose from the chimney and a pile of neatly stacked firewood was off to the side. On the steps of the porch sat a human child. She had on a light blue sun dress and long brown hair framed her face. Her feet were bare and on her lap sat a fox curled up in a ball. She stroked the fox, unafraid as Feyre approached.

"Who are you?" asked Feyre.

"Who am I? Who are you?" the little girl retorted. "Who are any of us, really? Who we are is only relevant in context with others. For it is our actions that define us, and for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction." She smiled down at the fox and scratched behind its ears.

Feyre tried a different approach. "Do you live here?"

"I do not live, because I do not die. I just, am."

Feyre began to suspect she had entered the mind of a mad-woman. She spoke in riddles and never answered a question. Feyre turned back to the vines and drew a sword. Perhaps she could cut away at the plant to gain access.

"You shouldn't be here, you know. It's not safe," cautioned the child.

"What's behind there? What are you hiding?" demanded Feyre. The girl looked forlorn as she stared past Feyre's shoulder to the wall of vines.

"I wish I knew. I've been trying to find out for...time. It must be important. I hope it's important because it's very prickly. It would be such a shame to finally break through and find it it was nothing interesting at all."

Feyre took a swing at the vine but barely made a dent. She tried throwing fire at it but the green flesh just smoked and smoldered. The girl appeared suddenly at her side.

"I'm Kyla," she said. "This is my Cabin. This is the fox. I never named him. I should have given him a name. I think the fox is dead now. Dead with no name. He killed him. He kills everything. Hurts everything he touches."

"Who kills everything? Where is this place?" shouted Feyre.

Kyla gave her a funny look. "This is my mind," she said as though Feyre was an idiot. Then she grew serious. "This is my mind and you shouldn't be here. It's not safe."

At that a vine whipped out from the wall and latched on to Feyre's sword arm. Feyre screamed as the thorns dug into her flesh. Another vine grabbed her ankle and pulled her off her feet. Her body slammed to the ground knocking the wind out of her. She reached for her sword with the other hand to hack off the vines that were now dragging her toward the wall. More vines lashed out and wrapped around her.

Feyre screamed as the thorns dug in and the vines began to strangle her. The plant was sucking her in and she could do nothing. She was panicking and thrashing, doing anything to stop the plant. A flash blinded her eyes and then total and utter darkness enveloped her. She felt strong hards reach under her arms and pull her out.

Feyre lay on the bedroom floor gasping for breath. She clawed at her neck as though the vines were still there. Rhys put both hands to her face.

"Feyre! Feyre! Look at me! You're out," he said urgently. His face was right up close to hers as he searched her eyes for comprehension. She was panting heavily trying to catch her breath. Her head spun as she tried to comprehend what had happened.

"I knew it! I knew there was something off about this. This human is not what she seems," she breathed.

"Feyre, what were you thinking? Why would you go in there?" he admonished her.

"Something about her was bothering me, and I was right. She's been trained. Her mind is shielded from Daemati and it's strong."

"How could she be bothering you? She's unconscious!" Rhys shot back. "Why would you go in there blind and take that risk? I might not have gotten there in time and your mind would have been lost!"

"I don't know! It just didn't feel right. How does a human girl run with an arrow in her thigh and broken ribs? How does she take down a full grown Illyrian male?" Feyre hissed.

"How does a human girl defeat a Middengard Wyrm in a maze of mud and bones and bring down an tyrant?" Rhys said, exasperated. Feyre froze and look aghast. She closed her eyes and bowed her head.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause harm. I just thought we needed to get some answers." Feyre swallowed and looked up at the bed. "Her name is Kyla."

Rhys brushed her hair out of Feyre's face and scooped her up to carry her out of the room.


	13. Broken things

**Chapter 13**

Rhys gently rapped on the door and popped his head in. Azriel was lying in bed, his wing splayed out to the side being held together by a brace. He looked up as Rhys walked into the room and took up a chair beside the bed. Azriel surprised Rhys by speaking right away.

"Kyla, the human girl I was with, is she alright?"

Rhys didn't answer right away, which told Azriel a lot in itself. "She's fighting. She was stung by the Myotes, and you know how that usually ends. She's human so...we're doing our best. But I've seen some humans do pretty amazing things. There's hope." Rhys let that sink in, waiting with curiosity for Azriel's reaction. But Azriel gave nothing away. He was a master of secrets, both others' and his own.

They sat in silence for a while, thinking. It was Azriel who spoke first.

"How long?"

Rhys hesitated pensively. The question itself was a clue. Azriel had lost track of the time he'd been gone.

"Almost ten months," Rhys answered. Azriel's eyes went wide with shock.

"Ten...ten months? Are you sure?" he asked. Rhys didn't bother confirming it. Azriel knew he was sure but didn't want to believe it. He let Azriel process this, hoping he would explain how so much time had passed. But instead Azriel just stared at the wall.

"Az, I'm sorry," Rhys blurted out. "I'm so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?"

Azriel furrowed his brow as though he were trying to remember Rhys' name. Rhys bowed his head in shame.

"Forgive you? Why? What has happened? What are you sorry for?"

Rhys' head shot up and he looked at Azriel incredulously. "For leaving you behind. For thinking you were dead." For giving up hope.

Azriel thought about this for a moment and Rhys could almost see the wheels turning in his head. "It's a logical conclusion. You shouldn't have wasted time looking for me. There were more important matters for you to take care of."

A mixture of guilt and relief flooded through Rhys' body and he sat back in the chair with a light chuckle. Always practical, that was Azriel. They sat in companionable silence for a time before Rhys spoke again.

"Your wing. How did this happen?" he asked.

"A Lubelli soldier caught me off guard. There were too many of them. It was foolish of me to try to take them all at once. But the flank was failing and we needed to give the foot soldiers time." Rhys sat up straight and processed what Azriel was telling him. A Lubelli soldier? During the battle ten months ago? Azriel explained further: "He came up from behind while I was distracted and slashed at the wing. I clung to him as we flew on, but eventually lost my grip. I don't remember falling, but Kyla said she found my leg that way. I must have crushed it on impact." Azriel was speaking very matter-of-fact, but Rhys was still on first part.

"You're saying you got these injuries the day of the battle? The day you disappeared. Ten months ago?" Rhys asked for clarity. "Why hasn't it healed at all? Why is it still this bad?"

"You can't blame Kyla. I did at first, I thought she was poisoning me, but it wasn't her fault. She was doing everything she could but she's not a healer, and she had no books on Illyrian anatomy. She figured out how to set the leg but had to guess on the wings. She had never seen them before," Azriel pleaded.

"Easy Az. I'm not blaming, I'm just trying to understand where you've been this whole time. Why couldn't we sense you? Why couldn't we track you?"

Azriel's head fell back on the pillow. He reached for a cup of water and took a long swallow. "This is what it must have felt like for her, when I asked my questions." He searched the ceiling for words. "To have so many questions yourself, and no answers, even though you should."

Azriel was talking in circles and Rhys decided he had maybe pushed him too much today. He made to excuse himself but Azriel spoke again.

"Don't ask Kyla, please? She shouldn't have to go through this again, with all of us. It's so terrifying to not know where you are, or where you've been. It fills you with this anxiety that it'll happen again, and you'll be trapped in a loop of Light and Dark with no end in sight. I'll answer as much as I can, which is almost as much as she knows. And she's so smart. She had it figured out before I even knew what was happening. It was her quick thinking that got us out there."

Rhys sat still, letting Azriel ramble. None of the words made sense but he could feel it wasn't the time to sort it all out. This was how Azriel was starting to process and he needed to let it out unhindered. Rhys didn't think he had heard the Illyrian say so many words that weren't a status report in his entire life. But he did interrupt to ask about the human girl. Her chances of survival were minimal and he needed any information that might help.

"Azriel, the girl, Kyla. She woke briefly yesterday while Mor and Feyre were cleaning the wound on her back. Lucien walked in at that moment and... she panicked. She took one look at him and started screaming and struggling to get away. No one could calm her down. She ripped open her back trying to get away, she was so terrified."

Azriel looked devastated but not surprised by this description. Rhys waited. The words seemed like they were choking Azriel, and he struggled to get them out.

"It's not Lucien, it's just that he's a High Fae male. It might be better if he stayed away from Kyla for the time being. I know why she reacted that way." Rhys was doing his best to stay patient but these riddles and cryptic answers were trying on him. He took a deep breath and waited.

"Kyla has only known two people - human or fae - her entire life. One is me, and the other... is a pale skinned High Fae male with red-brown hair." Rhys froze as he watched Azriel's body crumple in on itself. Tears welled up in Azriel's eyes but he didn't move to wipe them away. He was practically catatonic, like someone else was speaking from his body.

"I tried to stop him. No...that's not true. I didn't try. I wanted to try, but I couldn't move, I was so sick. Kyla was going out to find the Corasnow. It was a risk, but I asked her to go. I was dying. But he was waiting on the other side of the door." A tear escaped his eye, then another. "She never stood a chance. She tried to get away but he dragged her outside. He threw her down the steps with one arm and then punched her in the face when she tried to get up. It all happened right in front of me, the doorway framing the scene like it was a play, and all I could do was watch, but never saw his face." Tears rushed down now as he remembered how useless he was. An Illyrian warrior, just lying on a bed.

"He started kicking her over and over again and it was like I could feel the impact of those kicks in my own ribs," he sobbed. "He screamed at her to tell him who was in the Cabin, but she wouldn't break. She knew I was too weak to fight, and he would slaughter me as I lay. She didn't give him anything; never screamed for mercy, never begged him to stop. She made so few sounds I thought she was unconscious - I hoped she was, to avoid the pain. But that just made him angrier."

Azriel closed his eyes and brought his hands to his face in shame. "I must have passed out because I woke when I heard them struggle again and the worst sound...a sound I will never forget. She screamed then. She screamed when he mounted her. She screamed through her sobs as she pounded her fists on him. I prayed for death in that moment. I wanted to die so I didn't have to watch anymore, and then I wanted to die for shame of wanting to die when she was going through that to protect me. I tried so hard to move. When I woke again it was quiet outside and the fae was gone."

Rhys had his hand over his mouth to keep from being sick, and tears welled up in his own eyes. Azriel put his arm over his face as he sobbed silently. "Do you know what it's like to have to watch while an innocent person is tortured in front of you?"

At that Rhys took a deep breath and wiped his face with his hands. He reached for Azriel's hand. "I do. Yes. I know it all too well. And I can tell you that it doesn't go away, but it does get better."

Azriel looked aghast he realised that's exactly what Rhys had gone through, for fifty years Under the Mountain. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. Of course you know. You've seen so much worse."

"It will always haunt you, but she saved your life. Not all battles are won by fighting. And because of her will you're alive to repay her." Rhys gave him a tight smile and then rose from the chair. "I think I'll go find Lucien and let you sleep some more." He left without saying anything more.

* * *

Rhys wandered the halls, lost in thought as he processed what he had just heard. He would tell Feyre, eventually. They kept no secrets, but this wasn't his secret to tell. The knowledge was a heavy burden to bear, and he hoped Azriel's load was lightened a bit from sharing it.

He wandered into the sitting room and collapsed into a chair by a low fire. His emotions were swirling around in his mind: sadness, guilt, fury, helplessness, determination, rage. It was hard to know where to start. He didn't notice when Amren came in and sat across from him.

"Did you talk to him?" she asked softly.

"Yes. Sort of," Rhys mumbled. "He's...hurting. Cauldron help us if that girl dies."

"What is it about you and you're affinity for collecting broken things?" Amren asked the room. It was rhetorical, and Rhys ignored it. But she had a point. This house was filled with trauma. On any given night the sounds of someone's nightmare could be heard in the halls. Perhaps that was the glue that bound them together. They leaned on each other for support to get through life. And no matter how hard Rhys worked it seemed that tragedy followed his family around. The curse of the Night Court. The Court of Nightmares.

"Don't Rhys," Amren broke into his thoughts. "Don't go there. This is life and it is not unique to this Court. It just is. And for all the pain and suffering there is also laughter and pleasure. There is taking it one day at a time, and always working to make today better than yesterday. We can do that for him. He's here now, and we'll help him work through this. Just like he helped you, when you came back. Just like Feyre, when she was lost. And just like we're helping Nesta and Elain. We lean on each other, so that the weight is shared and no one is crushed by it."

Her monologue ended, followed by only by the sound of the fire crackling.

* * *

Rhys poked his head in the sick room and saw that Feyre had dozed off her in a high backed chair over by the window. He smiled sadly and found a blanket to tuck around her. She stirred and took his hand without opening her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's alright, I'm not sleeping. I'm just...resting my eyes."

"Have you eaten? You should have a bite. I can stay here, in case she wakes."

"No, it's alright. I had some soup earlier. I think the warmth made me groggy."

Outside the sun was rising and a chill was in the air. It wouldn't be long before the first frost arrived. Kyla stirred on the bed and coughed. The coughing had started the day before and they were concerned about fluid in her lungs. But the fit stopped and Kyla lay still, her raspy breathing painful to listen hear. It was then Rhys looked up and saw Azriel leaning heavily on the door frame, panting and sweating from the effort to stand.

"Azriel! What are you doing?" Rhys leaped up from the chair and ran across the room to grab Azriel before he toppled over. Azriel didn't answer but hobbled over close to the bed. Feyre grabbed a chair and dragged it over as they helped the Illyrian lower down into the seat. Feyre took the blanket that Rhys had draped over her and tucked it around Azriel's legs. Azriel was just staring at Kyla with deep concern etched on his face.

"Is there nothing else we can do? No magic?" he asked hopefully.

Feyre answered softly, "We're doing everything we can, Az. Lucien has gone in search of more herbs, and Amren has been buried in the library. We don't keep many texts on human health though, since the war." Azriel nodded and sniffed slightly.

"She would know. She had all those books memorised. She had nothing to do but read them over and over again."

Rhys watched as Azriel reached out and took Kyla's hand. Seeing the affection in Azriel's body, he grew concerned at how closely his friend was tied to this human. Not that he was judging, but rather that he knew how dangerous it was to care about something so fragile. Something that could so easily be taken away.

Kyla stirred at his touch and her eyes fluttered open. Instead of the panic attack she had the first time she woke, she looked straight at Azriel, and a small smile crept onto her face.

"So that's how the pieces fit together…" She barely had enough breath to speak but she managed a whisper between gasps. Were it not for the dire situation he would have been somewhat amused. Azriel let out a short bark of laughter and nodded as he leaned forward.

"It's alright. This is my home, my family. We're going to take care of you, as you did for me. You're safe now...but you're very sick." It seemed like Azriel wanted to go on, to ask her if she knew of any human medicines or healers that could help, but he stopped himself. She didn't need to know how helpless they were.

"Am I dying?" she asked bluntly. Azriel tilted his head and tried to answer, but couldn't say the words. "It's alright," she sighed and whispered. "I've always wanted to die." She smiled again and closed her eyes.

"No. No Kyla, you're not dying. Not today. You need to fight this, like you fought him. Never give in. Stand your ground." Azriel leaned forward to touch her shoulder but slipped off the chair. He cried out in pain as he jerked his back and strained his broken wing. Rhys and Feyre lurched to grab him and pull him back up.

"That's enough Azriel, you need to rest. Come on now, let her sleep," Rhys said firmly.

"No, she has to know!" Azriel brushed off Rhys' grip and leaned forward again. "Kyla, it's true. The story of the small Seraphim that flew through sea to save her friend, it's not a myth...it's history. All of the stories from your book. They're all true. You can meet them..." Azriel began to sway as exhaustion overtook him. Rhys pulled him up helped him back out of the room and down the hall.


	14. Back from the dead

**Chapter 14**

Azriel dreamed he was flying over a lush forest, on his way, but not knowing where he was going. The trees were a blur beneath him as the summer sun glinted off the autumn frost. The fields were green and lush, and the ponds and lakes were frozen solid. He flew into a glorious sunset as dawn broke behind him.

He landed in a small clearing where stood a simple cabin with smoke coming out of the chimney. A tidy woodpile was off to the side and a fox sat on the front steps, watching him calmly. Out of the cabin burst a human child with wild brown hair and a blue sundress. Her bare feet patted on the leaf litter as she ran into Azriel's open arms. She giggled wildly as Azriel lifted and spun her around before setting her down. She smiled mischievously before darting past him and across the clearing.

Azriel turned and saw a cliff edge with a gorge and river far below. He called out for the girl to stop but no sound came out of his mouth. He panicked and tried to run after her but he couldn't lift his feet. He tried to fly to her but saw that his wing was broken, hanging limp at his back. He watched in horror as she fell off the cliff edge and out sight.

The child rose up again on a set of her own wings. She flew in loops and circles giggling as she went before zooming past Azriel towards the cabin. She landed softly on the grass and she gave the fox a pat on the head. Azriel felt supremely happy, like he had never been so content in his life. But then a male fae stepped out from behind the cabin and walked up to the child. Azriel tried to see his face but couldn't lift his eyes. He knew he needed to look, to see who the fae was, but his eyes wouldn't cooperate. He couldn't look.

The fae reached down and scooped up the child. She began screaming and kicking, but the fae carried her over to the woodpile where the axe lay gleaming in the sun. Azriel knew what was coming. It happened to female Illyrians as they were deemed unworthy of flying. He began walking to the woodpile but had to drag his leg. He looked down and saw that it was in a cast of mud and unbearably heavy. _No_ , he screamed. _It's illegal_. _Rhys banned clipping wings! You can't do this!_

The fae began to hack away at the human girl's wings. But Azriel was confused as to how a human girl could have wings. She was sobbing on the chopping block and instead of stopping the male Azriel held her face in his hands. _Why do you have wings?_

She reached out to him with pleading eyes.

 _How it is you have wings?_ The mystery fae continue hacking and the girl just sat and stared at Azriel with sorrow and betrayal written on her face.

 _How could you let this happen?_ It was Rhys' voice, and he spun wildly to beg the High Lord to help.

 _Help her! Stop this!_ he cried.

 _You stop it. You're doing nothing. This is your fault. You should never have let this happen. It was too dangerous and you were selfish,_ Rhys' voice said to him.

The girl was screaming and Azriel grabbed the evil fae. He tried to fight him but his punches missed their mark or glanced off the fae harmlessly.

 _I didn't know! Please stop this! He's killing her. Stop this!_ Azriel pleaded and collapsed, weeping.

 _What do you care? You just found her, same as I did. You don't even know what she is,_ said the other fae. Azriel looked down and saw that it wasn't a little girl, but the fox on the chopping block. Its throat was cut and it was bleeding out. Azriel screamed in despair and scooped up the fox, hugging it close while he wept.

* * *

"Azriel! Azriel! Come on, open your eyes!"

It was Cassian's voice, firmly calling in his ear. Azriel's had been trying so hard to open his eyes to see the male's face that now, in the real world, his eyes snapped open and he instantly reached for Cassian's throat. Cassian's eyes bulged out in shock and he grabbed Azriel's forearm.

Rhys was there too and lunged between the two Illyrians to pull Azriel away. There was a mad scramble between the three males but Azriel was too weak to put up much of a fight, and Rhys and Cassian soon had his arms pinned down on the bed.

"Azriel! Look at me!" Rhys ordered. "Look at me, it's alright. It was a dream but you're here now. We're here." Azriel was breathing hard and sweating. His searched the room for any threat but saw only the concerned faces of his friends leaning over him. Cassian's nose was bleeding. His body relaxed into the mattress and he groaned and closed his eyes. Tentatively the males released his arms and sat back.

"I'm sorry," he panted. "I'm sorry. I thought...I was there and couldn't...but then the fox…"

Cassian looked to Rhys for clarification but Rhys just looked down at Azriel and nodded.

"Don't worry about it, Az. It was a dream," Rhys said in a soothing voice.

The three males just sat in silence for a time before Cassian moved to get up and deal with his bloody nose. There was a light rap on the door and Feyre popped her head in. Worry etched her face along with a great sadness. There were dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep, as the whole family had been caring for the two patients for days now.

"Azriel, are you alright?" she asked tentatively. Azriel nodded but didn't say anything. She hesitated and looked to Cassian and Rhys. Azriel looked at all three of them, panic growing in his chest.

"No. Please, no," he pleaded with her. Feyre shook her head and a single tear fell, but a smile also came to her face.

"The fever broke," was all she said.

* * *

Azriel walked slowly down the sidewalk with Cassian at his side. His limp was minor though the muscles in his leg needed to strengthen. The healer had recommended walking through town, gradually increasing the distance.

"But no long distances right out the gate. And certainly no cross-country!" Madja had sternly ordered him. Azriel nodded obediently but was anxious to get out of the house. He had been cooped up for so long, the idea of walking anywhere was joyous release.

Now he and his brother strolled companionably down the streets, between the market stalls. Several citizens nodded and smiled hello, a few came up and shook his hand to welcome him back. A child even ran up and surprised him with a hug to his leg. Azriel froze in place not knowing how to receive such affection. He looked to Cassian who was trying to hide his laughter behind a coughing fit. The father chided the young faery and gently pulled him away.

"I'm so sorry milord. I hope he didn't hurt you," his father apologised.

"Oh, I'm not a lord. It's fine, I was just surprised is all," Azriel stammered. He smiled down at the child, "Thank you for the...I appreciate…Um, it's nice to be back." The young faery grinned like speaking to Azriel was the best thing that had ever happened to him and held his father's hand as they walked off. Azriel didn't even look at Cassian.

"Don't," he said.

"It's was beautiful."

"Stop."

"The affection and caring in your body language…" Cassian said wistfully.

"Enough."

"You're a natural father figure. Females will be flocking to your door."

Azriel sighed, "Cassian…"

"That was the most painfully awkward encounter I have ever seen."

"Yes, we both know this. Can we just move on?"

"Whatever you say, milord," Cassian gave him a mocking bow.

Azriel looked around before asking Cassian, "Where did that come from? Do people in Velaris call you a lord?"

"Apparently they do quite a bit. Certainly not after they get to know us, but some of the strangers feel uncomfortable addressing members of the Inner Circle without the prefix."

"Well it makes me feel uncomfortable. Like I'm an imposter." Azriel looked around, adjusting his shoulders like he was wearing a costume that didn't fit properly.

"They are genuinely happy that their spymaster is back. Though I can't figure why...people actually starting having secrets of their own for a change." Cassian ducked a light punch to the shoulder from Azriel. "I'm serious though. Some even hung mourning banners, even though Rhys refused to declare you lost. He ordered them taken down, but I think it just made them more sad to see how upset Rhys was."

The thought gave Azriel pause. He never imagined anyone missing him when he was gone, let alone a whole city of fae. He spent much of his life being a grunt, just a slave to the whims of a father, a captain, a general, or a lord. It was different with Rhys as High Lord though; he was employed and paid a fine salary for his services. But Rhys made it clear that it was his choice to put his shadowsinging abilities to use.

He sighed and looked around at the faeries moving back and forth, going about their business. His spying and strength had helped the Inner Circle keep the Court of Dreams safe from the politics and nightmares of the real world. Few ever left Velaris, nor did they want to. They had everything they needed here. They were safe, protected.

Like the Cabin.

Azriel stopped and looked out over the Sidra from the railing of the Rainbow. It was the same concept, just that Velaris was bigger, with more than one person. Rhys had trapped them here to keep them safe. Could someone have done that to Kyla? She was a prisoner for sure, but with her needs catered to. She never ran out of food, the books found their way there. Perhaps it wasn't a curse that trapped her, but a spell that protected her. Or was supposed too.

Azriel felt an urge to start interrogating every High Fae male with red hair he came across. He began eyeing them suspiciously as they walked by, clenching his fists. How did he get in? How did he find her?

"What are you doing?" Cassian broke through his thoughts.

Azriel snapped his head around and realised where he was. "Nothing. I was just lost in thought, trying to figure something out. Sorry, let's find the shop and head back."

"You sure? We can always come back another time," Cassian offered.

"No, I'm fine. I'm looking for something specific." Azriel continued shaking hands and smiling at the faeries passing by, but his mind was already planning where he would start looking, and how to keep his promise.


	15. The Journal

**Chapter 15**

Kyla opened her eyes and blinked as the sunlight streamed in the room. She lay still in an enormous bed with lush covers and the softest fabric she had ever felt. The room was simple but airy and beautiful. A fire crackled in the hearth, and she saw a door leading to a small room lined with a smooth marble.

She turned her head slowly mentally taking stock of her body. Her ribs were sore but no longer painful. He body ached more from lack of use than any particular injury. She took a deep breath and tried to sit up, but it was a mistake. A deep tickle caught in her throat and her body lurched into a fit of chest-wrenching coughs. She thought her lungs were going to explode from her chest and bent double trying to hold them in. A set of gentle arms slipped under her shoulders and propped her up.

"Easy there. Take it easy, try to breath," said a soft smooth voice. "Here. Have some water." A cup was brought to her lips. "Just a sip. One at a time. There you go." The cup was lowered and Kyla sat panting as she caught her breath. The hands leaned her back on pillows that had been propped up behind her. When Kyla had gathered her wits she open her eyes and looked into a set of rich brown eyes. Though lined with worry, the eyes sparkled in the sun and were set off by a full smile.

"Hello. I'm Morrigan. You can call me Mor, if you'd like."

Kyla just nodded and stared, still breathing hard. Her eyes darted around noting the windows and doors, but also the paintings on the walls and the bookcase. A bookcase. She dragged her eyes away from it as Mor handed her another cup of water.

After another sip of water she tried her voice out tentatively. "I - I'm Kyla," she rasped. Mor smiled deeply at that.

"I know. Azriel told us. Many times, in fact."

"Azriel? Is he here? Is he alright?"

"Yes, he is. He's out on a walk just now. He needed to stretch his legs and he was driving us mad with his pacing and fretting. I told him I'd stay in case you woke up. You've been sleeping for a long a time. Looks like you needed it," she said with a sympathetic smile.

"His wing - I tried to fix his wing but I didn't know how I found a drawing of a bat wing and it seemed similar so I did the best I could but all I really had were sticks and rags and the Corasnow - that helped with the infection and with his leg so ba-" she broke off in a new coughing fit.

"Slow down!" Mor chuckled as she rubbed Kyla's back until the fit eased. "Azriel didn't say you were this chatty. Mind you, he's one not really that chatty either, so I suppose he left several things out." She got up and walked over to a small table by the fireplace. She poured some tea into a cup and brought it back to the bed, along with crackers and fruit pieces.

"We patched him up and he'll make it. The healer will come back regularly to work on his wings, but she's confident that he'll be able to fly again." She handed over a cup of tea and Kyla took it with shaking hands. Mor didn't let go until she was confident Kyla had a firm grip. She took a cracker for herself and sat on the edge of the bed. "The healer also patched you up. That arrow sticking out your thigh was particularly nasty, and also really badass. Azriel says you ran for half a day like that."

Kyla tried to smile but it was more of a grimace as she thought of her list of injuries, and how she got them. She looked away from the fae in front her and bit her lip as she tried to come up with a way to change the topic. Thankfully Mor looked equally as uncertain and did not mention the scars on her back.

"So...how do you know Azriel? Are you his wife?"

Mor nearly choked on her cracker. "Cauldron no!" she said as she reached for Kyla's cup of water. After a swallow she gave Kyla a sidelong look and asked, "What makes you say that?" It felt like she was suspicious of what Azriel had told Kyla about her.

"Well you aren't his sister-or mother or daughter even though immortals of different generations could look the same age-on account of the lack of wings." Kyla's brows furrowed as she thought it through. "But actually I'm not sure how easily that genetic trait is passed so I guess technically I shouldn't have discounted that theory so quickly." She looked back at the female's face. "But you don't really look alike either."

Mor smiled. "Thank the Cauldron for that!" Kyla shared her smile as she felt herself warming up to the fae before her.

"Spouse seemed like a reasonable conclusion since he said your name a lot when he was sick," Kyla finished sheepishly. "But from your expression I'm thinking I was mistaken."

Mor opened and closed her mouth before clearing her throat again. "No, I am not his wife. I am a good friend and have been for many years. I do love him, like a brother." She cocked her head and thought about it some more. "Actually, I'm also technically his boss."

"You're his spying boss?" Kyla asked innocently. Mor frowned.

"Well no, I guess not. But sort of, yes. It's complicated."

Kyla nodded like she understood and munched on some more fruit. Mor was flustered and quickly tried to move on. "How did you meet Azriel?"

"I found him in a crumpled heap on the forest floor."

"Oh."

Kyla took another sip of tea and looked around. She spotted a stack of books on the table by the bed. Curiosity peaked, she twisted her body to look at the titles. Mor followed her stare and chuckled again.

"Azriel left them. He said you had a thing for books and that you would enjoy these ones. Though I honestly have no idea why." She tilted one up and read the cover. " _A foot soldier's account of the Invasion of Xian_. He apparently never actually spoke to you to the whole time you were togeth-"

"The third book! I've always wanted to read it but I could never find it. I've read the fourth and fifth and they mentioned some of the analysis in it, and it just tortured me that it never showed up!" She lifted her weak arm to reach for the book.

Mor stared at her dumbfounded, her jaw practically on the floor.

"Uhh, you read about military tactics and post-war analysis...for fun?"

Kyla looked up with eyes shining. "Well they weren't my favourite but I found that once you start comparing all the versions you can reach some interesting conclusions."

Mor shook her head and got up abruptly. "Well you're more than welcome to dive in anytime, but before that how about I draw you a nice bath?" She walked over to the bathing room and began running the water.

Kyla reluctantly put the book down and took a deep breath before kicking the covers off. She was wearing a soft sleeping gown of sage green but her legs looked thin and weak. There was only a faint mark on her thigh from the arrow wound. She wiggled her toes and began to inch her way off the bed. Her bare feet hit the lush carpet on the floor and she paused for minute waiting for a wave of dizziness to pass. The bathing room seemed very far away. She began to sway and Mor appeared at her side and caught her before she fell.

"Whoa now! Where do think you're going? Mother save us, Azriel said you were tough but I don't think cracking your skull on the floor on my watch is going to go over very well." She put her arms around Kyla's waist and picked her up with ease. "You don't have to do everything on your own."

Kyla froze and looked up at her with brows furrowed.

"Not any more," Mor added.

* * *

The bath was the most sensuous thing she had ever experienced. The water was warm and she practically melted into the comfortable claw-foot tub. Mor added deliciously scented oils that soothed her throat and eased her cough. She washed her aching body and let herself float weightlessly in the water for a time.

Mor busied herself stripping the bed sheets and putting on new ones. Eventually she came back into the bathing room carrying a fresh pair of sleeping clothes. She placed them on the dressing table and helped Kyla wash her long red-brown hair.

"Thank you. For helping me, I mean," Kyla stammered. Mor gave her a puzzled look, like it was strange that she even mentioned gratitude. "Azriel said that humans and fae don't usually help each other," she added hesitantly.

"Of course. Well, you started it. And after what you did for Azriel, it's the least I can do," Mor answered.

"Well I mean - that is - I'm not - umm, you don't even know me," Kyla mumbled down to the water. When Mor didn't answer right away she looked up to see if she had heard. Mor had a sad expression on her face and Kyla detected a trace of pity.

Mor smacked her lips and added cream to Kyla's hair. "I know a little bit about you. I know that you lived in a small cabin in the woods your entire life. I know that you love to read and you're very resourceful and good at problem solving. I know that you helped a complete stranger and I am grateful to you for that."

Kyla blinked at that biography and stared straight ahead. "Actually, that about sums it up."

Mor paused for a moment before reaching for a cup to rinse Kyla's hair. As the water poured down her neck, Mor took it a step further. "I don't know your whole story, though. I don't know about those scars on your wrists."

Kyla looked down and ran a wrinkled finger over her wrists. A straight, thick scar ran from her palm to about a third of the way up her forearm. One on each. Kyla could still feel the cut of the blade as she dug it in and watched the blood flow to the earth below. She remembered that blissful pull of eternal sleep and release she was searching for. Then she remembered waking up, weak and thirsty on the Cabin floor. Scabs had formed on her wrists as she lay there and wept with frustration.

"There's no story to tell," she answered. "Didn't work, obviously."

Kyla could feel that Mor was unsatisfied with the answer, but she didn't press any further. What was Mor hoping she would say? That she would pour her deepest fears out in this tub for a complete stranger? Kyla had only met two strangers in her life. Right now the odds were fifty-fifty that this one was going to torture and kill her.

A loud clanging in the bedroom broke them out of their personal reflections and Kyla grabbed the side of the tub in fear. A large crash again and then a voice, "What's happened? Where is she?" It was Azriel sounding somewhat close to panic.

"Would you relax!?" shouted Mor from the bathing room. "We're in here!" Footsteps pounded across the floor and Mor leaped to door with blinding speed. As the door pushed open Mor slammed it closed, shaking the walls around it. "Absolutely not! You will not storm in here!" She looked over at Kyla incredulously. "You will wait out there until she is good and ready to come out!" she ordered.

"Oh! Of course," Azriel stammered. "I'll just wait outside." There was a barely concealed snickering in the room as well. Someone had come running at Azriel's shout and now found the situation immensely funny.

"Overreaction, much?" said another male voice.

With shaking limbs Kyla raised herself out of the tub and let Mor wrap her in a thick soft towel. Mor combed out her hair and helped her into the fresh sleeping clothes. She wrapped a dressing gown around her as well and then helped her to the door. They peaked their heads out and saw that Azriel was standing at the window with his back to them. Leaning heavily on Mor, Kyla made her way to a comfortable chair by the fire, where Mor tucked in a blanket around her.

Azriel turned to them and at least had the sense to look abashed. Kyla noticed how he watched Mor fuss about her and saw his expression soften. A friend indeed, she thought.

"I'm sorry about earlier," he said to both of them. "I saw that the bed was empty and I...was concerned something had happened."

"Where did you think we had gone?" Mor mocked him.

That caught him off guard and he stumbled over an explanation. "Nowhere. I mean, I thought that maybe the worst...that something had changed…" He sighed and rubbed his hand through his hair. "It doesn't matter."

Kyla bit her lip to hide the smile that was trying to show itself. She shifted slightly in the chair, adjusting her blanket.

"Well on that bizarre note I'm going to find something to eat. Can I get you anything?" Mor asked as she moved to the door.

"Thank you, no. I'm fine," answered Kyla. When the door closed Azriel moved to sit down on the footstool in front of the chair.

"How are you feeling?" they said in unison. Azriel chuckled and Kyla smiled.

"Still never thinking of yourself," Azriel wondered.

"I've only had myself to think of since...ever. So it's a welcome distraction to worry about someone else."

"Well I'm happy to report that I'm on the mend, thanks to you. The healers were equal parts frustrated and impressed with your cast. They would like to know the recipe, when you feel up to it."

Kyla raised her eyebrows and a small smile of pride crept to her face. "Well then for my part I feel like my lungs are on fire, and I can barely move my arms and legs I'm so tired. Looks like I've taken over the lead in the 'most-broken' category."

Azriel nodded at her downplaying of her injuries and illness. He tried to look her over and make the analysis for himself but she was so smothered in blankets he could see only her hands and face.

"I went for a walk today for the first time, and I brought you a present."

"A gift? What for?"

"Do I need a reason? You are a nice person, I thought I'd get something nice for you," he explained.

Kyla blushed. "Of course, I mean, thank you."

"You don't even know what it is yet. How can you thank me?" Azriel chuckled.

"Is that wrong? I didn't know." She swallowed. "I've never received a gift before."

Azriel's smile faltered at that and his eyes fell with sadness. He searched for the right thing to say and settled on emulating Kyla's good humour in the face of sad situations.

"Consider this the first of many firsts." He handed over a leather bound book with no title. Kyla's face lit up as as she grasped the book and open it. Her shoulders sagged a bit as she flipped through the pages that were all blank. She looked up at Azriel with confusion. At that he handed over the second part of his gift: a pencil.

"It's a journal. Now you can write down all your crazy and brilliant ideas. You can put whatever you'd like it in. You make drawings, write poems, design armour, come up with battle schematics, anything you want. You can just write the date to prove that today has a date. You can keep track everything and no one will take it away. Time exists here," Azriel explained.

Kyla stared down at the blank pages in awe. Her hands were shaking as she ran them over the fresh paper. She grasped the pencil awkwardly, like it was as foreign to her as a sword.

"Thank you," she whispered. "It's beautiful." But she didn't write anything right away. She couldn't bring herself to try. What if it was all a dream? What if the words disappeared when she awoke tomorrow? Was it better to live in this wonderful fantasy than know the truth?

Azriel cleared his throat and got up. "I'm going to see about bringing you up some supper. How does stew sound?" he asked jokingly. But Kyla's thoughts were only on the journal and what she would write first. She held the pencil above the page without moving. Azriel took the misfired joke as a cue to give her some space and silently backed out of the room.


	16. Suspicions

**Chapter 16**

Rhys looked up from his plate when Azriel walked into the dining room and took a seat at the table. The conversation fell silent as they all looked at him as though he might suddenly disappear before their eyes. He tucked into the table and then noticed how quiet it had become and looked up.

"Is everything alright?" he asked. That seemed to snap everyone out of it and they turned back to their plates. Amren and Cassian picked up their argument where they had left off and Feyre turned to Lucien to discuss the activity on the eastern border. Rhys looked at across at Azriel, watching him pile food on his plate. He was glad to see Azriel's appetite had returned.

Then Cassian cut in. "So did she like it?"

Feyre halted mid-sentence and listened in. Mor was also paying attention and Amren casually took a sip of wine. Azriel shifted in his seat under the scrutiny of his friends.

"I think so. Maybe. I don't think she quite knows how to react," he said. "She told me no one had ever given her a gift before."

The whole table blinked as that settled in. Feyre cleared her throat and resumed eating. Surprisingly, it was Amren who recovered first.

"But she must like it, since she likes books. That's pretty much the only thing we know about her." Rhys noted a small trace of bitterness in her voice, and wondered what she was getting at. Amren had shown the least amount of interest in the human girl, but then she rarely expressed anything more than a purely professional connection to any of them. Rhys didn't doubt that she cared about them, but it fell in a mysterious zone between love and passing indifference. Still, Amren doesn't like what she doesn't understand, and she seemed particularly wary of this human who had landed on their doorstep.

"Odd books though," Mor piped in. "I've never heard of any human girl who enjoys reading about military tactics and engineering reports like she does." She took another bite of food and looked around the table. "That's odd, right?"

Cassian perked up, "She does? Which ones?" He looked to Mor for insight but she just shrugged her shoulders and gave him a look that said, 'How should I know?'

"We also know that something very powerful is watching over her. Her mind is shielded strongly; a very rare skill among humans," Feyre added. "It bothers me that something is hiding in there."

"It bothers me that you're all sitting here trying to find the worst in her," Azriel interrupted. The dark shadows were swirling around his body and Rhys could see the tension in his jaw. "She's a girl who helped me. Why does that make you all so suspicious of her?"

"Girl or woman? I never know where that line is drawn with humans," Cassian mused. Amren rolled her eyes and Mor threw up her hands in disgust.

Feyre tried to ease the tension. "It's not that we're not grateful for what she did for you, but even you have to admit it wasn't just to be 'nice.' She had ulterior motives: she needed your wings to fly her out there. What if someone put her there for a reason?"

"So she wanted to leave. That makes her a bad person?" Azriel demanded.

Mor responded. "No, not necessarily but you brought a complete stranger with some very big mysteries hanging about her into our most private home. The Courts don't even know about this place and now we're supposed to blindly trust her?"

"Trust her with what? She hasn't asked anything of us. Why do we need to trust her? She's just here, coming back from death's doorstep, taking one day at a time. We don't have to include her in council meetings." Azriel's fists were clenched on the table and his scowl was cutting through the room. There was a pause in the conversation before Lucien made his first contribution.

"Why don't we all take a step back and give it some time to get to know her?"

"You stay out of this, Vanserra. This doesn't affect your family," snapped Mor.

But Feyre jumped to her friend's defense. "Hey, why are you mad at him? What's he got to do with it?"

"What does he have to do with it, indeed? If Kyla would tell us why she's so terrified of him, that might give us something more to go on." There was venom in Mor's voice.

"Oh relax," chided Cassian. "She's just jealous because Azriel is obsessed with a female other than her," he said to Rhys.

With that the room exploded. Mor leapt to her feet and started shouting at Cassian. Lucien tried to explain to Azriel that he had no idea why Kyla was afraid of him. Feyre turned to Rhys to convince him to break her mental shields, and Amren shouted at all of them that they were spoiling her meal.

 _That is enough,_ Rhys said to their minds. The entire table froze and looked furious as they tried to get a hold of their tempers. _Can you even see yourselves or do I need to pull it from your memories and play it back for you?_

They blinked and looked around the table at each other then glanced away in embarrassment. Mor took her seat and Lucien reached for a glass of wine. Azriel's grip on the crumpled dinner fork eased a bit, and Feyre looked to her mate with pursed lips.

"When did we get this way?" he asked them. "When did we start pronouncing people guilty until proven innocent?" He looked down at his hands and played with his napkin. "Was it when Amarantha tricked me? Or when the mortal Queen's betrayed us? Or Tamlin? How about when we were ambushed eleven months ago and thought that our brother had been killed?"

Each faery around the table wandered off into his or her own memories. They had become tense, distrustful, and angry since Hybern. The war was still so fresh in their minds, in their bodies, it was like they were exhausted from being on call all the time. They thought wistfully of a time when they could relax and enjoy each other's company. Visit Courts and celebrate festivals. But rebuilding a continent and staving off constant pressures from outside kingdoms had made them bitter and hard.

"You can do as you like, but I'm going to help the person who saved my brother get back on her feet. I am curious to know what's going on with her, and I will continue to look into it. But right now we have bigger problems than one human girl who was lost in the woods. So we will be kind, but wary," Rhys said very deliberately. "I'm going to start by bringing her something to eat."

He rose from the table and carried a plate of food out the door, leaving the others to mumble through their apologies for the childish row they just had. Rhys knew they were under a lot of stress, but he hoped it wouldn't change the nature of who they are. He carried the plate of food up the stairs and gently rapped on Kyla's door. When he got no response he quietly poked his head in to see if she had heard.

Kyla was fast asleep in the armchair by the fire, Azriel's gift on her lap. Rhys put the plate down on the table and walked over to scoop her up and carry her to the bed. She didn't even stir as he tucked her under the covers and placed the journal on the bedside table. As he looked down at the human that Azriel was so fond of, he reminded himself that she was the type of person they were fighting for. Innocents who were caught up in this shifting of power and had little control over their own fates.

But his cousin did have a point. She was a mystery in his home and too close to his family. His family that he would give anything to protect, as he already had. Feyre had poked into her mind and it nearly ended in disaster. His heart raced as he thought of what he would do if he lost his mate. He looked down at the journal on the table. He knew it was wrong, and every moral fibre in his body told him to stop, but he reached out to touch the book. He ground his teeth as he made his decision, and flipped open the journal to see what the girl had written.

The page was entirely blank except for one number written at the top. 'One.'


	17. Welcome to Velaris

**Chapter 17**

Kyla stood back from the doorway and took a few calming breaths. Rhys was just behind her with a gentle smile on his face, while Azriel and Cassian waited on the front lawn of the townhouse. For days she had been looking out her window taking in the buildings and things outside. Now that she had regained the strength to walk outside for the first time, she was worried she was losing her nerve.

"It's alright, we can turn around anytime you want," Rhys sensed her unease. Kyla just nodded to herself and squared her shoulders. She walked up to the door and opened it to the outside.

The autumn sun was brilliant this morning, and an early frost coated the evergreen trees and leftover berries on the bushes, making the whole world sparkle before her. The front walk led across a small lawn to a cobbled street, where High Fae and lesser faeries went about their business. Kyla stared at them from behind the safety of the gate taking in the sights of so many people at once.

Her world had slowly grown larger, one faery at a time. First she met Azriel, then Morrigan, Feyre, and Rhys. Cassian and Amren happened upon them at breakfast one day, when they arrived early for a meeting. Cassian had broken the tension by walking right up to Kyla and wrapping her in a giant hug, lifting her off the ground. Kyla had a brief moment of panic but before she could react he gently returned her to the ground and gave her a friendly smack on the shoulder before walking over the table and helping himself to some food. She stared after him as a grin slowly crept to her face.

Six people. She now knew six people.

And one monster.

She pushed him to the back corner of her mind but he never really left. He was always lurking in the shadows or behind corners. She looked both ways up and down the street trying to peer into the faces of the fae passing by. Azriel seemed to sense her unease and came up behind her to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She jumped at his touch and then tried to laugh it off.

"I guess I'm a little tense. There are a lot of people," she tried to explain.

"I understand. The three of us are right here."

She looked over at Cassian and Rhys who were trying to pretend they were deep in a conversation and not watching her carefully. Before she could lose her nerve she opened the gate and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

Cassian and Azriel walked ahead side-by-side chatting about the latest development in some sports series they were keen on. Rhys hung back and walked beside Kyla as she took in the sights. He watched her face closely, not out of suspicion but out of a sense of pride in this city he had protected so fiercely.

The streets were lined with houses of all different shapes and sizes with huge trees in the yards, bare of any leaves. Two children laughed and jostled by them without a care. A third zoomed over on a set of her own wings, shouting at them to wait up. Up the street Kyla could see cafes with their doors open and people sitting and visiting pleasantly. She didn't know where to look first.

Trying to take in all the sights she tripped over a cobble. Rhys' put out a arm to steady her but she cringed and pulled away.

"Don't!" she said quickly. Azriel and Cassian stopped and looked behind them. Kyla flushed bright red looked away from Rhys concerned face. "Sorry. I, uh...sorry." She turned and continued walking trying to hard to avoid stumbling over market carts and bumping into people. Rhys looked to the Azriel who just shrugged and followed.

"So is there anything in particular you'd like to see on your first visit to Velaris?" Rhys asked, trying to break the tension. Kyla didn't take her eyes off the scene around her.

"I honestly don't know where to start. What do people usually want to see in cities?"

"Well Velaris isn't like any other city. They call it the City of Starlight, full of art and culture. Of course there is a seedier side, as all collections of people have, but mostly it's full of music, dancing, good trade, and good humour."

"How can that be, if there are battles going on?" Kyla asked. She noticed a small flicker of wariness in Rhys' eyes but passed it off as nothing more than reflection.

"Velaris is a secret. It's not on any maps or in any history books save our own. My forefathers poured their very blood into the stones to shield and protect it from those that would destroy its beauty."

"So was that structural damage I saw on the building back there caused internally?"

A shadow passed across Rhys' face and he scowled towards the building with the second story blown away. "No. During the war with Hybern our secret was betrayed and the city was attacked. The people here are artists, not fighters. They were defenseless and slaughtered mercilessly. Many died before we were able restore the shields." Kyla could feel a deep sorrow emanating from the High Lord beside her. Like he could still feel the pain of that day and still mourned the people he couldn't save.

"The war with Hybern was a long time ago. Can you not fix it?" she asked softly.

"We can, and maybe someday we will. But for now it stands a monument to that event. A reminder that we enjoy many liberties while those outside the city suffer. There recently has been a movement to invite more outsiders into the city. I'm not comfortable with betraying a secret that has been kept for five thousand years, but sometimes things must change." Rhys looked around him wistfully as though he was seeing things for the first, or perhaps the last, time.

Then Kyla came to an abrupt stop and stared out over the river with her mouth open. It took several paces for the others to realise she had stopped, but when they noticed she wasn't beside them anymore they hurried back.

"What is it, Kyla? What's wrong?" Azriel asked with concern. She just shook her head and tried to speak. Tears filled her eyes but didn't fall. The males all spun around quickly trying to find the threat that had her so unnerved, but only saw store patrons and other faeries going about their business.

"It's exactly how I imagined it would be. I never thought I would get to see it." Kyla was staring in awe and wonder at the intricately built stone bridge that spanned the Sidra. The bridge was complex as it had to be high enough to allow boats to pass underneath but strong to support the transport of goods and wares on the road above. Ancient architects had come up with a system of arches and self-supporting circles that allowed the bridge to cover the width of the Sidra with no additional pillars. Not only was it a marvel of engineering, it was beautifully crafted piece of art.

"The book said it had been destroyed in a battle thousands of years ago. That it broke the king's heart to tear it down but they were retreating and needed to cut off the enemy's advance. One of the greatest feats of engineering laid to ruin over some petty squabble. But it's here. It's been here this whole time. And it's beautiful." The joy on Kyla's face had all three males staring at her rather than the bridge they had each crossed a thousand times. Cassian looked to Azriel for an explanation as to why they were staring at a bridge, but Azriel was just watching Kyla. Rhys had turned to appreciate the bridge as well.

"Like I said: we worked hard to keep it a secret."

* * *

"Why don't we head up the street and grab a bite to eat at the square. I'm starving."

"A shocking suggestion coming from you, Cassian. Though I will admit to wanting a bite myself. Kyla, what would you like?" Azriel asked.

"I'll just follow your lead. Don't really know what my options are."

They walked companionably up the street as Rhys pointed out various stores and what could be found inside. Cassian greeted an officer on the street who was on leave from his duties in the Night Court's army. Several fae approached Azriel to shake his hand and welcome him back.

The food vendors were out in full force, with steaming meats and warm drinks being offered. Other stalls had set up selling jewelry, late season vegetables, fabrics, and pottery. Kyla kept close to the males as they wove their way between the increasing number of people. A crowd was starting to form in the square as musicians picked up a merry tune.

Kyla again stopped in her tracks at the sound of that music. She watched the instruments she could design from memory, but had never heard the sound of. She was mesmerized by the musician's fingers flying over the strings of the fiddle and the high pitched tune coming out of the flute. A group of young faeries pushed by her to get closer and she stepped back to give them more space. She still wasn't comfortable being close to other people and contact made her cringe. As she moved again to an open space, she noticed that none of the males were nearby anymore. How could three sets of Illyrian wings have disappeared so quickly?

Kyla took a quick breath and refused to let panic set in. She calmly turned around expecting to find them in another direction. On her second time round she had to admit that she had lost track of them and needed a higher vantage point. She saw a pile of wooden crates stacked to the side and began to weave her way in and out of the crowd to get to them.

The music had picked up tempo and more and more people were filling the square. More people than Kyla had ever imagined. She was having trouble finding a route through them and kept getting pushed around. Faeries of all different shapes and sizes were there but she was being smothered by long cloaks and thick wool jackets of autumn. She tripped over a short squat faery with small horns and landed roughly on the cobbles scrapping her hands and knees. She scrambled to get up but had no place to move out of the way.

The leash she had on her panic was starting to slip and bile rose in her throat. She twisted wildly, pushing people away as she tried to move out of the crowd. Her vision began to blur at the edges as she struggled to catch her breath and her legs were shaking in terror. A set of hands grabbed her shoulder from behind and spun her around. She screamed and pushed the hands away.

"Kyla! It's me," Azriel said authoritatively. "Take my hand."

She looked at the hand and tentatively reached for it. Azriel held tight and immediately winnowed back to the front gate of the townhouse. Compared to the cacophony of the market square, the residential street was near silent.

Kyla's voice was shaking as much as her limbs. "Where did you go? I couldn't see you and there were so many people. I tried to move away but they kept pushing me. I didn't know where to go but the people were so close- "

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Kyla," Azriel interrupted her ramblings. "I got distracted. We didn't think the market would be that busy today but there was a new shipment and people rushed in. I'm so sorry, we should never have gone there." He reached out to touch her arm in reassurance but she stepped back quickly.

Rhys and Cassian appeared at the gate looking equal parts concerned and abashed. Azriel spun on them with venom in his eyes. "Where were you two? You were supposed to be looking out for her! It was her first time in a city - her first time anywhere!"

Cassian held up his hands in defence. "Hold on there, brother. All three of us were there so I think there's enough blame to go around."

"She's alright, Azriel. Just a little shaken up," Rhys soothed.

"Something could have happened! She just a human - who knows who would have taken advantage of that?"

"I think you're overreacting a bit. This isn't the Hewn City. We're talking about Velaris. She was overwhelmed but she was never in any real danger." Cassian leaned against the fence post casually.

"I'm sorry I got distracted Azriel, but don't take your anger out on us. This was a three male mission and we've failed at it twice now," Rhys said with a grimace.

"Twice? What are you talking about?" Azriel spat.

"She's gone again."

Cassian and Azriel whirled around but Kyla had long since run to the house. Even Rhys hadn't noticed right away. Cassian actually barked out a laugh.

"Looks like you picked a slippery one. Again."

Azriel nearly knocked him out cold with one punch.


	18. Privacy

**Chapter 18**

Kyla ran through the foyer nearly colliding with Feyre who was stepping out of the sitting room.

"Hey, where's the fire?" Feyre exclaimed as she pressed herself against the wall. Kyla didn't answer and just ran up the stairs. Feyre watched her go in surprise and then peaked out the door where she saw Cassian and Azriel trying to kill each other in hand-to-hand combat. Rhys casually strolled in the doorway with his hands in his pockets.

"That good, huh?" Feyre asked with eyebrows raised.

"Remember the report that a new shipment of Cyrillian spices was on its way? Well it arrived today…"

"Oh. Ohhh," Feyre nodded in understanding.

"It was a stupid mistake and she's pretty shaken up. The crowds were...excited, and we got split up." Rhys scrunched up his face. "One human is surprisingly hard to find in a sea of frenetic faeries. You'd think she'd stand out more."

"They're designed to blend in, I think."

"Now Azriel blames us, though mostly himself, I think. But Cassian isn't going to stand for that so…" he gestured to the front lawn where the Illyrians were now on the wrestling on the ground. Feyre watched them with pursed lips.

"Is this really necessary? I mean, she didn't get hurt or anything did she?"

"Someone I know would call it 'overprotective male fae instincts," Rhys nudged at Feyre. "It's likely that he feels a bit responsible for her. She did keep him alive for ten months. I think a little protectiveness is understandable." He watched Azriel land a particularly nasty blow. "Of course if he breaks Cassian's arm I might have something else to say about it."

Feyre sighed. "I'll go up and check on her."

She left Rhys behind in the foyer to monitor the fight and took the stairs slowly to collect her thoughts. What do you say to a human who was just dumped in a world of faeries? Ironically, Feyre realised she was likely the best person to talk to. But she hadn't been human when she arrived in Velaris. She had been Made by then. She was untrained but strong and full of power. Kyla not only lacked any magic, she had no training in defense, physical fitness, or even social skills. Feyre shuddered to think of what it was like to be so vulnerable.

She knocked softly on Kyla's door and called out. "Kyla? It's Feyre. Can I come in?" Through the door she could hear the muffled sounds of Kyla trying to cover up her sobs. She tried the handle but it was locked. The lock wasn't a barrier for her, except that it symbolised she didn't want anyone else around.

"Kyla I understand you're upset, I just came to check on you. Can I get you something?"

Feyre's fae hearing was able to pick out the smallest movement inside the room. She knew that Kyla was sitting on the floor on the far side of the bed. She barely picked out a few words. _Breath...just breath...just breath_ , said over and over again. Feyre closed her eyes and let out a big sigh. She had been there, in that exact spot, trying to control the sheer terror that lived inside of her, always threatening to take over her body. She had muttered those same words herself.

Rhys had been her lifesaver. He had thrown her a rope when she began to drown. He tricked, goaded, teased, threatened, and forced her to talk about it, to work her way through her fears. Her fear of closed spaces, of being trapped, of being alive. Rhys knew what she was feeling and could stop her downward spiral of harmful thoughts before she hit rock bottom. But Kyla had no one looking out for her in this way. No magical bond that tied her to a guardian.

Feyre paused with her hand on the doorknob and reached out tentatively with her mind. She had just brushed the surface when a sharp force jerked her back into her own body.

"Don't, Feyre!" Rhys hissed in her face.

She jerked back. "I was just trying to help her calm down!"

"It's not right. This isn't life or death. She locked the door for a reason and we should give her some space."

"She's having a full blown panic attack and - "

"And what?" Rhys asked with eyebrows raised.

"And she has no one like you watching out for her. You stopped me when I was...despairing. When I was wondering what my life was worth. She doesn't have someone watching her that closely, pulling her out of those dark places."

Rhys' expression softened at that and he pulled Feyre into a warm embrace.

"Believe me, it's absolutely terrible to watch. It's so hard to see someone in pain and know that you could take all that away in an instant. But covering it up isn't the same as healing. I helped you through it over time. We helped each other through it. And we didn't use magic or powers, we just talked it through and worked it out. She needs that space as well."

Feyre sighed and returned the embrace. "Amren was right. You do seem to collect broken things."

They were sitting down to dinner when Mor stomped in through the door and collapsed into a chair. She poured herself a big glass of wine before she even looked at the food.

"I just spent nine hours meeting with the delegates from Dawn and Day about these attacks on the east coast." She nearly finished the glass in one gulp and set down her cup to fill it up again. "My ears are bleeding from the sound of their bickering."

Feyre looked up from her plate and felt relieved she had been spared the meeting of stuffy nobles. Instead she had sorted out trade partnerships with Winter and gone over the latest reports from the supply lines of the Night Court. Mor looked around the table, seeing it for the first time.

"Where are Azriel and Cassian?" she asked.

Feyre grunted and swallowed. "They were sent home without their supper."

Mor rolled her eyes and looked at Rhys. "What for this time? Or, do I even care?"

Feyre explained, "In summary, the males got separated from Kyla today on her first visit to the city. She was somewhat scared out of her wits but other than that, completely unharmed. But Azriel acted as though she had been abducted and took it out on Cassian."

"I think it was more Cassian's final comment that sent him over the edge," Rhys clarified.

"What was that?" Mor asked. Rhys quickly looked away and found his food very interesting.

"Something vulgar," he mumbled.

Mor just sighed and started heaping food on her plate. Feyre watched the food pile on noting that the meetings must have been particularly bad for her to be this hungry. But then Mor stopped mid-helping and stared across the table into space.

"What?" Feyre asked. "What are you thinking?"

"How upset is Kyla?" Mor asked. Rhys looked up at her questioningly.

"Well, she was thoroughly terrified and locked herself in her room for the rest of the day. She was pretty upset though I can't be sure; she wouldn't open the door for anyone."

Mor shook her head. "It's probably nothing but...you don't think she would do anything...drastic, would she?"

Feyre cocked her head. "What do you mean by 'do anything'? As in, hurt herself?" She shifted in her seat. "That seems a bit extreme. Having a panic attack doesn't mean you want to die."

"But she does. I mean, she has. Tried to before. She cut her own wrists. I saw the scars and asked her about them. She almost sounded disappointed that it hadn't worked."

Feyre had stopped chewing and stared at Mor. "Do you remember what she said to Azriel, when she woke that time?" _I've always wanted to die._

The females looked to Rhys, who continued to eat his dinner like he wasn't even listening.

Mor balked. "Are you even concerned, Rhys?"

"No, I'm not," he kept on eating.

"Rhys!" They screeched in unison.

Rhys sighed and put his fork and knife down. He looked over at Feyre before admitting what he had been trying to hide. "I already checked."

Feyre realised he had gone into Kyla's mind and ensured she wasn't planning on killing herself. After he had reprimanded her for doing the same.

"You told me that was a violation of her privacy!"

"This was life or death."

* * *

Feyre was sitting at the her desk going over ledgers when she heard a crash down the hall. She got up and poked her head out quietly.

"Nuala? Cerridwen?" she called softly. When she received no answer she followed the sounds of clattering to the kitchen door. She slowly pushed it open and peered inside. A figure was crouched on the floor trying to clean up a broken jug that had contained milk. With the flick of her wrist the faelights brightened and Kyla whirled around with a butter knife held up like a dagger. Feyre threw her hands up in surrender, though as soon as Kyla realised who it was she quickly dropped the knife. Instead she put her hand to her face and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I'm sorry for bothering you. I...I couldn't figure out how to turn on the lamps. So I knocked over this pitcher. And I made a huge mess. Then I tried to clean up. But it was still dark. And you startled me, because you move like a shadow. The end."

Feyre just watched her with round eyes and took in the mess on the floor. "Are you hungry?"

Kyla chuckled, "Famished. But I was too embarrassed to come down to dinner."

"Embarrassed? About what?"

"About losing it in the square today. And then locking myself in my room. I didn't handle it very well." Kyla looked down at the floor and pushed a shard of pottery around with her toe.

Feyre walked across the kitchen and picked up a cloth and tossed it across to Kyla. "Here. You clean this up and I'll heat up some leftovers." She grinned at Kyla. "Fire is my specialty."

Kyla blinked and crouched down to start wiping up the milk. "Really? You specialise in fire?"

"Well no, I guess that's not exactly accurate. I have a few of the powers of each of the High Lords. Fire comes from the Autumn Court. Air from Dawn, water from Summer, ice from - "

"Winter?"

"You guessed it," Feyre acknowledged. She opened the cupboards and pulled out some bread and jams. She set some items on the island in the centre of the kitchen and pulled up two stools. "I had a hard time with it too, you know."

Kyla rinsed out the rag and hung it to dry before settling on the stool opposite. She reached for a slice of bread and added a generous hunk of cheese.

"I actually blamed them. I was so angry at all the happy people here. That they could go about their lives while the rest of the world suffered horribly. It took a lot of coaching from Rhys before I could set foot in the city without inadvertently incinerating it." Feyre reached across and heated up a bowl of soup with her hands. She slid it across the table to Kyla, who stared at it with awe.

"Careful," Feyre cautioned with a grin. "It's hot."

Kyla tentatively took a sip and sighed with pleasure. Feyre remembered how delicious the food tasted here compared to the mortal world. It was like awakening a whole new sense that she had never used before. She heated up of a cup of tea for herself while Kyla ate.

"I've read so much about cities. About people and places. Battles and armies. But to experience it...Not that I'm comparing Velaris to a battle, but the people-there were just so many people. It was louder than I imagined. I guess I never really imagined. I had never given a thought to what so many people together would sound like. It was...deafening. I couldn't hear myself think. Then I couldn't see. Then I couldn't breath." Her voice trailed off as she reflected. "I've never shut down like that before. Even when...even…not even then."

She glanced up at Feyre and swallowed before averting her eyes. Feyre waited for her to clarify but Kyla let it drop. "I'd like to go again. Get back on the horse that threw you, you know? That's a saying right? That's something that people say?"

Feyre chuckled. "Yes, that's a saying. You sure you want to go right away?"

"Yes. Tomorrow morning, first thing. I've wasted enough time sitting around and I've got a lot of world to see. Plus, I'm not getting any younger." She grinned at her own joke and took another mouthful of soup. "I need to get out. If I stay still...I'm worried I'll never be able to leave."

Feyre thought that over, wondering if she would have gotten over her trauma faster if she had had Kyla's fierce determination. Tamlin had given her space to work it through, but she had no idea how to do it, so she just suffered in silence. It had nearly driven her mad; it kind of did, when Tamlin locked her in the house. Only through the gentle pushing - and sometimes a hard shove - from Rhys and the others had she been able to take the first steps towards recovery.


	19. Walks

**Chapter 19**

Each morning from then on Kyla would leave the house in the morning and walk around Velaris for a bit. She never went far, just explored a bit. She would never visit the same place twice, always wanting to prove to herself that she wasn't trapped, and could go where she pleased. She went down to the wharf and watched the sailors unload their goods, or she climbed the hills to visit the different palaces. She kept to the edges of the markets and always had a clear exit mapped out, but she gradually got used to the sights and sounds of the city. Sometimes she would wait until after breakfast if the others were there, but other times she would wake from a nightmare and go out to find a place to watch the sunrise and collect her thoughts.

The Inner Circle was pulled away from Velaris often for trade negotiations, border security, and some skirmish or another. Azriel didn't come around the house often as this conflict with another kingdom had him busy putting his spying talents to use. Cassian came by now and again, but mostly to report on the army's movements and preparations to Rhys and Feyre. A few legions had been mobilized to protect their borders and were at the ready for a looming battle that Kyla never got the details of. Cassian would always come say hello to her but then follow Rhys into his study where they would pour over maps and espionage reports from Azriel. Kyla was curious to know what was happening but didn't want to interfere with any of their business.

Morrigan was often pulled away to the Hewn City to deal with some issue or another and Feyre was constantly shifting around managing the Court as High Lady. Sometimes in the evenings she and Kyla would pull up chairs by the fire with big mugs of tea and enjoy the silence of each other's company as they each dove into a book.

One evening Feyre looked up from her book to see Kyla writing in her journal. "What do you write in there?"

Kyla blushed slighted. "Nothing much. Just doodles and sketches. Things to remember or questions I want to look up." She took a sip of tea. "I've started a list of books that I think Cassian might like to read. Well, he might not _like_ to read them, but they could be interesting."

Feyre raised her eyebrows and was about to ask more when there was a knock at the door and she opened it to find Lucien on the front step. He was shivering in the cold and gladly walked into the warmth of the house.

"Sorry to come so late but I only got in from the continent just now and I thought you'd want to know right away," he said as he peeled off his snowy outer coat.

"Definitely, I do. Come in and get warmed up. I'll run get you some tea."

Kyla was crouched by the fire adding another log as Lucien walked into the sitting room. He stopped short when he saw her and tried to retreat, but it was too late. Kyla froze as she took in the tall, light skinned High Fae male with red-brown hair before her. It wasn't the same person, but she still couldn't make her feet move. Images of that male at the Cabin flashed in her mind and her hands began to shake. Her chin trembled as she inched herself away from Lucien and stood behind the armchair. With two hands she gripped the armchair like she was going to rip out the stuffing, and tried to control her breathing.

 _It's not him. It's not him. It's not him. It looks like him, but it's not._

For his part, Lucien looked desperate to escape the room but couldn't find an appropriate excuse. He shifted on his feet but didn't approach the terrified human before him. Her fear was palpable, though he had no idea why. He was racing through hundreds of years of memory to try to understand what he had done.

"I don't believe we've formally met. I'm Lucien."

Kyla just swallowed and wetted her lips like she was going to respond but couldn't muster the courage to.

"I was here when you first arrived, but I've been away on business since then. I'm very glad to see that you're doing much better." Lucien tried give her a reassuring smile.

He was so unlike the other male. Where the other fae had cruel eyes and a snarling voice, Lucien's face was calm and gentle, and his voice silky smooth. Once she started noticing the differences, she saw that Lucien's hair was much more red and his features quite a bit different. Kyla took a deep breath to steady her heart but couldn't approach him.

"Thank you," she whispered, but couldn't muster more than that. She looked over and saw Feyre standing at the door with two cups of tea in her hands, watching them closely. Kyla couldn't decide if Feyre was there to protect Lucien or stop him, but she was definitely on her guard.

"Goodnight," she mumbled to Feyre as she rushed her by before climbing the stairs.

* * *

Kyla was standing in the foyer of the townhouse with Azriel beside her, ready for a winter walk. She glanced outside and the brilliant sun on the snow had her reaching for a warm wool jacket. But when she opened the door it was summer out and the grass was lush and green in the sun. She frowned in confusion at the sudden season change and turned back to the foyer, but Azriel wasn't there. A hand reached out and clamped down on her mouth, muffling a scream. She squirmed and twisted to get out his grip but he was too strong for her. She bit down on his hand and he cursed and threw her against the wall.

He grabbed her by the collar and pinned her in place.

 _Did you think you could hide here and I wouldn't find you?_

She lashed out and kicked him but it he was too far away. He didn't so much as flinch.

 _You think these people care about you? You are just a pet, a nuisance_.

Kyla looked around wildly searching for help. Every person she knew was standing in the foyer watching her with impassive eyes.

 _Please, help me!_

 _What for? You're just a human_ , Cassian said. _So delicate._

 _I know, but I can be useful!_

 _Who are you? Where did you come you from?_

Kyla couldn't see who was asking but besieged each of them to help her. Then she was kneeling in front of them as they stood in a semi-circle like a jury at a trial.

Feyre glared at her, _Who taught you magic? How do you have mental shields?_

Rhys shrugged, _It doesn't matter, I can still brush the surface to get what I need._

 _I'm too busy to do this. We have bigger problems_ , Mor turned to walk away.

Kyla twisted wildly and pleaded with each of them but never actually said any words. Azriel just stood with his arms crossed and wouldn't look her in the eye. Then the pale fae male came up from behind and hacked off one of Azriel's wings with a sword. Azriel fell to his knees but didn't fight back. The High Fae walked over to Kyla with blood dripping off the sword and grabbed her arm to pull her out of the foyer. Kyla punched and kicked with everything she had but he just wrapped his arm around her neck like she was a child throwing a tantrum. Kyla screamed and pulled but no one came to her rescue.

 _You belong to me_ , he hissed in her ear.

Darkness began to fill the room swallowing everything it. It wasn't a looming black but rather a soft shade, like the blanket of clear night.

"Kyla," the darkness said. "Kyla, breathe."

Kyla spun and pushed the pale faced male away in one clean shove. The darkness swallowed him without a sound. Stars appeared around her and Kyla reached up to pluck one out of the sky. She looked at the star closely as its light glowed across her face. She was turning it over in her hand when it became a small vine that started growing. She dropped it quickly but it continued to grow into a writhing mass.

Kyla took a step back from the vines but one reached out and grabbed her. It began dragging her forward towards the front door of a small cabin. All sense of control left her then as she clawed at the carpet of the foyer to stop her advance. Her fingers were being pulled off the doorframe when a hand reached out and clutched her forearm.

"Kyla, breathe." Rhys had her face in his hands. They were in a void of darkness. There were no lights, no shapes, no sounds. She could feel the mattress of the bed underneath her but saw only Rhys in the black.

"Focus. Look at me and breathe." Rhys took a deep breath as if to demonstrate the action he was looking for. Kyla was trembling but she took one shaky breath, then another. Gradually her breathing became even but her eyes felt incredibly heavy. She fought to keep them open but soon her body went limp as she returned to sleep.

Rhys laid her back on the bed gently and Feyre pulled the covers over her. He stepped back and took Feyre's hand.

"What did you see?" she asked softly.

"Her worst fears."


	20. The Stairs

**Chapter 20**

"This is all your doing, Rhys! You should never have made that deal with Keir!" Mor shouted.

Rhys sighed and rubbed his brows. "We couldn't avoid them forever. We needed the support of the Court of Nightmares."

"But Velaris? You're allowing them in! What do you think they're going to do to this place? The people here are so naive, the Hewn City will eat them up."

"That's not necessarily true. Merchants are still business people and will appreciate more customers. They have been warned to remain wary of strangers and have the right to refuse service."

"We'll have armed guards posted at all the market places, and anyone entering the city is given only a day pass," Cassian cut in.

"They must leave by sundown and I have people reporting to me. If they break any of the rules, they will be permanently expelled," Azriel assured them.

"This isn't right! That people should have to be on guard or keep to their homes just so some cruel courtiers can peruse a jewelry store!" Mor was inconsolable. "The schools are practically closed. Parents think that their children will be snatched from the streets. Most of the shops are shuttered, and the dock workers called in sick so the shipments are rotting in the holds."

"Enough!" Rhys commanded. His patience was up with this argument. He didn't want the Court of Nightmares near this city anymore than the others, but it was war when they made the deal and they had all made sacrifices. "You each know your roles to play in this so I suggest we get to work. I'm ready to show this city to the Court, but I don't want the people of Velaris seeing...that. The Illyrians will act as sentries, and the rest of you know what to do."

He got to his feet and noticed that Kyla had entered the dining room. She was standing back and nibbling on a piece of toast, watching the scene play out with wide eyes. He looked at her pointedly as the group began to make preparations to leave. "You will stay indoors today, no walks in the city." It was not a request, but an order.

"I understand, I just need to go out for minute and I'll be back right away."

"That's really not what I just said." Rhys pointed out.

"I won't go far, I just need to go out."

"No!" he accentuated.

"But -"

"I'm not used to giving an order twice. We have enough problems with this visit without you wandering the streets. If they find a human here it'll compromise all of our negotiations with the mortal realm and with the other courts. I'm not going to say it again." The rest of the group had donned their jackets and weapons and had either winnowed to their posts or walked outside.

Kyla was backing out of the room with wide eyes. "You can't keep me here, " she said under her breath. She spun and made a break for the front door. It was a strange choice since there was no way she could outrun any of them but there was panic and defiance in her actions. Rhys threw up a shield with half a thought while putting on his jacket. Kyla slammed into it full force and landed on the hard floor with a thud. She looked up at him in disbelief as he strode for the door and dissolved the shield.

"I don't have time to explain right now. Stay here and don't let anyone in. It's for your own safety." He walked through the door and slammed it behind him. The lock clicked a moment later.

Kyla scrambled to the her feet and yanked on the door with all her might. She rattled it in desperation and banged on it with her fists. "Don't trap me here!" she screamed at the door. A light hand touched her shoulder and in one motion she spun and punched. Instead of it being a pale High Fae it was Nuala, one of the wraith-twins. The wraith looked up at her in shock but wasn't hurt. Kyla just ran for the stairs without apologising.

* * *

Azriel was standing with Rhys on top of one of the buildings above the market surveying the scene below. The courtiers from the Hewn City were perusing the stalls with disdain, turning their noses up at everything.

"Why did they even want to come?" Azriel asked.

"Just to prove they could. Keir knew it was special to me, and he wanted to see how desperate I was."

"There's nothing here they can't find in the Hewn City."

"Except some good cheer," Rhys said with a huff.

Cerridwen appeared out of thin air on the rooftop beside them. Her face was twisted with worry and she wrung her hands in concern.

"It's alright, Cerridwen. They're not really doing anything. They just wanted to know what they didn't have," Azriel reassured her.

"It's not that. It's Kyla. She was upset this morning when...she couldn't go out. Nuala came up behind her and Kyla...hit her." Rhys' eyebrows shot up. "She's fine! Nuala that is. More stunned than anything. So was Kyla for that matter. She ran upstairs to her room and won't answer the door. That's all fine if she wants, except she hadn't made a sound either." Cerridwen looked between Azriel and Rhys for some acknowledgment of the situation.

"Cerridwen, this is not pressing information. What is it you've come to tell us?"

The wraith cringed and got to the point. "I didn't mean to invade her privacy but it was just so eerie so I...we...checked. She's gone."

Azriel's head flew up to Rhys' face as he tensed his muscles to take to the sky. Rhys nodded once then sent out a message to the rest of the Inner Circle to begin the search. They needed to find her before someone from the Court of Nightmares did.

Azriel immediately flew to any spot she had ever mentioned visiting. He checked the bridge and the clocktower because of her fascination with the architecture and went down to the wharf where she would watch the sailors unload their goods. He landed and spoke to several of his spies to spread the word around the city. As the only human in the city it shouldn't be hard for someone to sniff her out. When he started looking under rubbish bins and back alleys he realised that he had lost perspective and needed to regroup.

Back in the sky he surveyed the city, trying to analyse where she would have gone. Rhys had ordered her to stay in the house. Azriel doubted she had ever received an order before. But she overheard some of their discussions, she must have realised it was for her own safety. Why did she need to go out so desperately? It was just one day. Just stay in the house. The house was safety just like the Cabin.

She stayed in the Cabin. It was the order to stay, the lock on the door, that had pushed her over. Everyone left and she was forced to stay. Azriel screamed at the clouds. They did exactly what Tamlin had done to Feyre. He hadn't wanted to trap her to prevent her from being happy, he wanted to protect her, to keep her safe. But he didn't take time to teach her how to protect herself. Instead just left her behind while he went to work. They criticised Tamlin and treated him with disdain for being so selfish and now they had done the same.

Anger was boiling up inside Azriel. He flew madly above the rooftops, looking but not really seeing. The sun was setting and the light was making shadows in every corner. He reached the edge of the city and was about to turn when movement caught the corner of his eye and he saw a figure climbing the stairs to the House of Wind. Relief washed through him and he quickly changed directions to put down on a landing three-quarters of the way up the cliff.

Kyla was standing on the edge of the landing looking out over Velaris. The sun lit the red streaks in her brown hair and made the sweat shine on her brow. There were no railings on the stairs carved from stone. Azriel approached very slowly though he had no doubt she knew he was there. He paused a few feet behind her, waiting for her to acknowledge him.

"Kyla," he said gently. "Kyla, what are you doing here?"

Kyla didn't turn her head, she didn't sigh, she didn't say anything at all. She just continued staring out at the city, her toes right at the edge.

"Everyone has been looking for you! You were supposed to stay in the house. Just one day."

Still Kyla stared out at the city with a blank look. Though no tears fell, her shoulders conveyed a sense of immense sadness and despair. Azriel tentatively took a step closer, but stopped when she spoke.

"Do you think maybe someone has said that to me before? 'It's only for one day.' Maybe that's how it started...I don't remember."

Azriel didn't know what to say that. He stood in place trying to come up with the words, but she went on.

"I jumped once. I enjoyed the free fall. It was...liberating...for just one moment."

Azriel cocked his head as though he hadn't heard correctly. "You jumped? From..."

"That bluff behind the Cabin. I calculated that if I could reach a high enough velocity and landed just right, my neck would break. I could finally be free."

Azriel froze. She was standing right at the edge, but he wasn't worried about her falling. He could catch her in an instant. It was her confession that had him worried. His mouth went dry.

"I forgot that the laws of physics don't apply to magic. Silly me. So instead of freedom, I woke up in the Cabin with a broken wrist and a bad headache." Kyla still hadn't turned away from the view of the city.

"Kyla...I'm sorry."

"I'm telling you this not for pity, but so you know-so you remember-that there are fates worse than death."

"You're not trapped here," Azriel said firmly. "It was only for the day. Do you not trust me to keep you safe?"

Kyla spun around so quickly one foot slipped off. Azriel lunged to grab her arm but she snatched it back and shoved him away like she hadn't nearly fallen to her death.

"Trust you!?" she screamed. "Trust? Why would I trust you, I don't know anything about you!" She was glaring at him furiously and clenched her fists like she would start throwing punches.

"I have seen this tiny sliver of your lives, whatever presents itself between the walls of house full of strangers. I hear whispers of fighting, of rebellions, of wars that I know nothing about. You can stand there and tell me you're on the good side, that you're doing it to protect this city and its people, but I don't know that! All I have done in this world is read about it. Read about its history, its wars, its politics, its inventions, and its failures. And you know what I learned in those books? History is written by the victors. But if you dig down you'll see there are always two sides to every story – sometimes even more!"

Kyla was pacing on the landing as she screamed at Azriel. Any thought he had of interrupting was quickly cut short.

"What if you are the tyrants? You say you're the good guys, but every side thinks they are in the right. What if these invasions or uprisings you're quashing are the plucky rebels who are trying to overthrow the ruling elite and make a better world? I don't know! All I know is that it's really nice here and that you don't want anyone else to have it. So with no other information or experience, I'm supposed to blindly trust that this is the right way?"

She shook her head slowly and stepped back, distancing herself from Azriel. "No. No, I will make my own decisions about where I place my trust. You will not tell—"

She slipped off the edge.

Azriel dove off the cliff and wrapped his arms around her before winnowing to the front step of the townhouse. The sun had set and the winter chill was setting in. Their panting breaths formed clouds in the cold air. He immediately released her and took a step back to give her some space. Kyla stood stock still on the step staring at the door in annoyance, not looking at Azriel, and grinding her teeth.

"I wasn't going to jump," Kyla said flatly. "I don't want to die anymore."

"Then what were you doing up there?"

"Rhys said the city wasn't safe because of...whatever. I panicked because I thought I was trapped again. But once I was outside, I panicked because the city was supposedly very unsafe. I made for the House of Wind. I figured it was a good compromise, since I couldn't stay in the townhouse but couldn't stay in the city." She looked at Azriel then. "There are a lot of stairs."

A small smile came to Azriel's face.

"Do not laugh."

"I'm not laughing." Azriel wasn't laughing but he was relieved beyond words. Kyla's anger seemed to have evaporated in the free fall and her dry sense of humour was creeping back. The truth was that he had been worried she would jump. Not because he couldn't catch her but because of what such at act would symbolise. That she was so unhappy here, with his friends. Because it's possible she was and he didn't know. He had been so busy with his duties that he hadn't been around much, and she was right: she didn't know anything about him. When he was at the Cabin, he had been too sick to tell her about himself, and wary of who she was. Then when they came to Velaris he hadn't shown her around or spent much time with her. So she could be extremely unhappy and he would never have known.

"Thank you." She said after a while. "For catching me."

He nodded and opened the door.

* * *

Rhys sighed and flipped through the pages of the notebook Mor had handed to him. It was filled with drawings of the bridges and buildings of Velaris, presented in surprising detail and accuracy. There were sketches of weaponry and machines he had never seen before as well. There were calculations, recipes, formulas for mixtures of minerals and elements. Here and there were single sentences that felt like reminders for a later to-do list. The back page had a list of book titles with Cassian's name at the top. It was messy and incoherent but the level of detail and references to the Inner Circle made him uneasy.

"Where did you get this?" he asked Mor.

"I found it in her room," she said defiantly. Rhys raised his eyebrows at her, questioning why she would invade Kyla's privacy like that. "I have no regrets. I was looking for a clue as to where she might have run off to. I'm glad I did as I found she's been spying on us."

Feyre was looking down at the fire making it dance into different shapes and figures. Without looking up she added to the conversation. "That's a bit of a leap, don't you think? It's just a bunch of jibberish, random musings. I'd hate to know what anyone thought if they saw my own journals."

"I don't like it," Cassian added. "Why is she writing all this stuff down? What's she going to do with it? I mean, there are weapons and notes about the city's defenses. It certainly does look she was planning on giving it to someone."

"Giving it to whom?" asked Lucien. "She doesn't know anyone else."

Armren let out a huff. "I frankly don't care. I do not feel threatened by a mortal and I honestly don't why we're even still talking about it." She ran a hand through her short dark hair and shook it out.

"Azriel said he had found her and was coming back. I think we need to have a conversation about this, don't you?" answered Rhys.

The group fell silent again, lost in their own musings. They were mentally exhausted after a long day of traipsing around after the Court of Nightmares and the added stress of chasing after a rogue mortal in the city. But Mor seemed to be particularly agitated by the journal she had stolen from Kyla's room and made it clear she was out for blood. Rhys was puzzled by her recurring bitterness towards the human girl, though he suspected some jealousy had come into play. Azriel had been chasing Mor for hundreds of years but now his attention had shifted. Though not a vain fae, Mor was not hiding her suspicions very well.

The sound of the front door opening and footsteps entering the sitting room brought him out of his musings. Kyla glanced at them individually taking stock of the mood and then averted her eyes to anywhere but. Azriel stood behind her like he wanted to offer support but recognised this was her battle to fight.

Kyla just stood in the room looking wary and tired.

Cassian broke first. "Where the hell have you been? You were told to stay indoors!"

Kyla's eyes flared. "I don't recall signing up for an army where I need to follow orders."

"So you're not even going to apologise?"

"Apologise for what?" Kyla had a lethal calm to her but she wasn't about to lay down. She stared hard at the large fae, unwilling to be intimidated. "I was left behind with no information or idea of what was going on. I was locked in. Trapped. And you want me to apologise for thinking I had a say in what I do? For behaving as if I was a person and not just a pet to be ordered about? No, I will not apologise." Kyla voice shook as she spoke but her words were firm.

Feyre moved from the fireplace. "What was so important that you had to leave the house this morning? Where do you go everyday?" She had been silent up until this point but Rhys could feel the defensiveness for her mate's earlier actions through the bond. Her question brought Kyla up short and her resolve faltered as she looked Feyre in the eye and then away.

"Nowhere," Kyla said flatly. "And everywhere."

Azriel stepped in. "I know exactly where she goes, why is it a concern?" Rhys didn't doubt that Azriel had his spies reporting on the movements of a lonely mortal wandering the streets of Velaris. Kyla didn't seemed surprised that he knew either, or at least she didn't show it.

Kyla swallowed and looked down at the floor. "I walk to a different place everyday. I just step outside and see where my feet take me. Never the same place. I...I need to prove that I can. That if I wanted to leave, I could. Sometimes I wake in the night and I can't figure out if this is the dream or reality. Sometimes I can't breathe, I can't think. So everyday I step out of the house. To remind myself that this isn't the same prison, with different bars." She looked at Rhys and Feyre. "I am sorry that it caused so much disruption."

Feyre looked annoyed but Rhys couldn't tell if it was at Kyla's answer or at herself for thinking the worst of a girl who was dealing with the same trauma she had once experienced. Mor, however, was still unsatisfied. She marched over snatched the book from Rhys and waved it in the air.

"That doesn't explain this! What is this about, Kyla? Were you taking notes about us?"

Kyla cringed as she saw the book. She blushed a deep red when she realised she had been called out. That they had her journal out for everyone to see. "That's nothing. It's – it's just thoughts. Just ideas I have or things I notice. It doesn't mean anything, I just wrote them down because I could. I never could before."

Azriel put his hands up as if to push Mor's rage away from Kyla. "Mor, you were going through her things? What did you think you were going to find?"

"I had no idea what I was going to find, because I don't know anything about this person who lives in my house. We've welcomed her into our home, treated her kindly and given her everything, and then I find out that she's secretly spying on us and writing notes! There's a recipe for faebane in here!"

Cassian shifted uncertainly and Amren finally admitted she was paying attention by twisting to look at Kyla. Feyre's head jerked up and then she quickly glanced at Rhys. She had been poisoned by faebane before and it had nearly cost her her life.

"That's right, faebane! A recipe to mix it with a hand cream or something! She could be wearing it right now and slowly poisoning us all by touching everything in this house." She glared straight Kyla. "What could you possibly want that for? Why would you know anything about faebane?"

Instead of rising up to meet Mor's rage, Kyla seemed to shrink into herself. Her previous defiance dried up and she began to search the room for exits. She swallowed and shook her head sadly. "You wouldn't understand. You're strong and powerful and you have no idea what it's like to be the weakest person in the room. A victim waiting to happen. To have no control." She choked back a sob and warily searched the room for the next attacker.

"Answer the question, girl," Amren said with deadly calm.

Kyla just gasped for air and backed away. Her face was tortured as she searched their faces for sympathy. Azriel reached out to touch her arm reassuringly but she cringed and pulled back like he had burned her. Then she spun on her heels and fled the room.

"Hey, what the hell?" Cassian exclaimed. Kyla's whole body ducked like he had thrown an object not an insult at her as she cleared the doorway. Azriel put out his arm to stop Cassian from following.

"Don't you start with me! I'm sick of dancing around this issue just because you feel indebted to her or something."

Rhys stood up behind them. "Cass–"

"No, I think we deserve some answers. Weapons? Faebane? What the hell could a person need faebane in a hand cream for? Has she been poisoning us this whole time while collecting our secrets?"

Rhys looked at Azriel for confirmation before answering. "I can think of a reason."

Azriel's shadows seemed to grow around him, burning black with a fury he kept just below the surface. He slowly walked to the couch by the fire and lowered himself down.

"What aren't you telling us, Azriel?" Lucien asked patiently. He had watched this argument with the Inner Circle from the sidelines as usual. But Rhys knew he had questions about why Kyla was so afraid of him.

Azriel put his face in his palms and when he lifted them tears glinted in his eyes. Mor looked at him warily and glanced over to Rhys. Feyre sat on the armrest of the large chair but Rhys walked over to the fire and looked in.

Then Azriel told them what happened at the Cabin. He told them of the monster that haunted Kyla's dreams, and with it came the fear that dogged his own footsteps. A fear of weakness, of inadequacy, of failure as a warrior.

No one made a sound as they listened. No one asked for clarification or offered their sympathies. When he was finished, Amren simply got up and left. She paused at the door as if she might say something, but then changed her mind and walked out.

Mor mumbled. "The scars...the wariness around males…" She just stared out into space with disgust on her face.

Cassian stood suddenly and started pacing in front of the fire. He clenched and unclenched his fists and matched the motion with a mashing of teeth.

"That's not...it wasn't..." he huffed. Finally he came to a stop and glanced at the ceiling as though he could find the right thing to say there. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Azriel shook his head slowly. His eyes pleaded with Cassian to understand his pain. "What would you have done?"

"We would have been able to help you heal, Azriel," Feyre said gently. "We would have been able to help both of you."

"I will heal when I find that bastard and rip him limb from limb," Azriel said with careful precision.

"But that won't fix the feelings that you have about failure. It won't change what you saw and how you felt," Lucien prodded. "I learned the hard way to pretend like everything was fine with my friends." He looked right at Feyre with sad eyes.

"I'm sorry you went through that Azriel," Mor said as she rose from her seat. She looked up at the ceiling as though she could see into the bedrooms on the second story. "But there's someone else I owe a bigger apology to."

* * *

Mor gently pushed open the door to Kyla's room and peeked inside. She didn't bother knocking now, she had already violated this space enough, she would do it once more to try to make things right. Kyla sat on the floor in front of the fireplace with several other journals around her. She was ripping out pages and throwing them in the fire. Mor walked up quickly and grabbed her hand to stop her.

Kyla didn't flinch but looked Mor in the face with sad eyes and a tear stained face. "I never should have written this down. I didn't before, why did I need to start now?"

Mor gently pulled the sheet from Kyla's fist and flattened it back into the book. She looked back up at Kyla and brushed away a loose strand of hair.

"I'm sorry," Mor said. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier. And I'm sorry I wasn't here to listen."

"You don't owe me anything. I never expected anyone's pity," Kyla said bitterly. Mor was a little hurt but figured she deserved that.

"I owe you the simple kindness of a friend. You have done nothing to earn my distrust and I so easily leapt to conclusions. I'm ashamed," she said with finality. Kyla nodded and looked down at her journals.

"I'm ashamed because I do know what it's like to lack control of your own life. At eighteen I was sold to the highest bidder and dumped on his doorstep like an unwanted dog. I'm not as invincible as you give me credit for."

Kyla looked up at her in horror.

"But I got better. Stronger. And so can you."

"I'll never be as strong as a fae," Kyla reminded her.

"No, but solutions like the faebane cream and other things in your books can help."

Kyla brushed her hands over the pages of her journal. Mor leaned down and flipped through one. She wasn't sure how to help Kyla build her machines or mix her potions, but she did think she could help her be confident in a cruel world.

"Tell me what I can do to make up for how awful I've been," she asked.

Kyla blushed and looked down at her hands. She bit her lower lip and seemed to want to ask something, but didn't know how.

"What is it?" urged Mor.

"I want to cut my hair."


	21. Training

**Chapter 21**

The next morning Kyla arrived in the dining room for breakfast and hesitantly looked inside. She knew they had stayed up late last night talking, but wasn't sure what was concluded. The room was empty except for Cassian who got to his feet as soon as he spotted her. She took a tentative step into the room and slowly approached the table. She chewed her bottom lip as she waited to see what the Illyrian would do. Cassian looked like he didn't know what to say so instead walked over and placed a set of folded clothes and boots on the table in front of her.

"From now on your walks will be runs through the city. Your training starts today." Kyla looked at him with a glint in her eye, and slowly smiled.

The training was physically grueling but Kyla absorbed everything without complaint. She was ready each morning, waiting for Cassian on the frozen lawn of the house, and she worked through her exercises steadily. Sometimes Feyre would join them for the workouts, saying the life of a courtier had made her soft.

"Ah, just like old times Cassian," she said good naturedly. "You shouting at me to be better and me remembering what a prick you are." Cassian clapped her on the shoulder and ordered more push ups.

Eventually Cassian arrived at the doorstep but they didn't head out on a run. "Ready to start learning some fighting?" he asked good-naturedly.

Kyla's eyes lit up and she grinned. "Will we learn Illyrian combat techniques or something that humans can actually do? Ooh, I've never understood how the Cretean swing kick actually works. I would always just fall on my face."

Cassian stopped mid-stride and gave her a funny look. She just blushed and bit her lip. "I read about it…" she mumbled quietly.

Cassian just shook his head and grumbled under his breath. "Books. Learning how to fight from a book. What's next?" He stalked down the steps and reached back for Kyla's hand. She followed at a distance but didn't take it. He stopped and turned back to her.

"Well, are we going to the training ring?" he asked impatiently.

"Where is it?"

"On upper levels of the House of Wind."

"Oh. That far."

"It's fine, I can fly us there in a few minutes." Cassian moved as if to scoop her up but Kyla quickly stepped back, her breathing quickening as her anxiety grew. "It's perfectly safe. I won't drop you."

She swallowed and looked up at the sky then back down at Cassian. She searched his body for an answer. His hands were tough and calloused, arms rippling with muscles. He had his hair tied back from his face and wings loose, ready to fly. Kyla flexed her hands and clenched her fists repeatedly, but couldn't step close to him. Too close. She couldn't be that close to a male without smelling...male. Without suffocating.

She stepped back again. "Maybe we should just run some more. Core strength, you know? It's the foundation…"

Cassian dropped his hand slowly as realisation dawned on him. He saw her hands shaking as she tried to hide them with her arms crossed. Like she was trying to shield her body from his stare. He looked away quickly, out to the street, his jaw clenching as he remembered why this little mortal didn't want to take his hand.

He looked back at her then and nodded. "Warm up, then strength training. You'll never be stronger than...a male fae. But you can be as strong as possible for a human. And then we'll learn some tricks that don't rely on strength, but on quick thinking, which seems to be your forte."

Kyla shot him a look so full of gratitude that relief flooded the whole front yard. They set out side-by-side on an easy jog.

* * *

In the end it was Mor who got Kyla to the training ring. With no wings of her own she could winnow to an entrance and either join the group for training or continue on her business for the day.

They started with building the simple technique. Cassian had learned through the session how sensitive Kyla was to personal space. If ever he brushed by her or tried to move her limb in the motion he was looking for, she would recoil as if burned. It was involuntarily; like years of conditioning had ingrained that reaction into her muscle memory. She tried to cover up it up by pretending to have an itch, or needing to adjust her clothing. It was awkward for both of them but Cassian soon learned to point to the spot he was referring to and demonstrate.

"Alright so you're going to stand with your feet at twelve and five and then use your core muscles to add weight to the punch. Your arms will never be as strong as your larger muscles, so back them up with the snap."

Kyla took up the stance and slowly practiced bringing her fist around. Off to the side she could hear the clashing of metal as Mor and Azriel sparred with their blades. Feyre had also arrived and was warming up to the side, planning on working on some aerial technique with Azriel afterward. Cassian held up some pads on his hands and instructed her to hit them square on. Kyla wound up and snapped her fist out, landing it solidly on the pad with all her might. Cassian barely even felt it.

She grimaced and looked down at her knuckles. "Ow." She looked up at him embarrassingly. "I don't think that was right."

"You need to straighten out your wrists to absorb the impact. See how it's crooked?" He tried pointing it out but Kyla didn't really see the issue. "You need to keep it flat."

She tried again but this time she clutched her wrist and gasped. She stepped back and shook out her wrist in frustration. Azriel and Mor had paused in their fight and were watching her try to learn how to punch while they took a water break. Kyla squared her shoulders in frustration and resumed the stance.

"Wait! I see it!" interrupted Azriel. He strode over to where she and Cassian stood. "Go through it in slow motion again."

Kyla slowly brought her fist up as though she was going to punch Cassian's outstretched pad.

"It's there. You need to twist it..no, not that way. To the side." He stopped and looked Kyla straight in the eye. "I can show you. Just the elbow and wrist. If you want. One word and I'll let go."

Several beats passed and Azriel and Kyla didn't break eye contact. Mor and Cassian held their breaths watching the scene unfold. Then, ever so slightly, she nodded. Azriel slowly reached and gently took her forearm and hand and turned it over to the correct position. He let go and stepped back. Cassian's head didn't move but his eyes swiveled between Kyla and Azriel. Slowly she pulled back and went through the motion again, in the correct position. Azriel reached and made one small adjustment. Again.

"Thank you," was all she could bring herself to say. Azriel offered her a small smile and returned to Mor who was waiting with their swords.

Kyla landed fifty punches correctly before Cassian called her off, praising her good work. She nodded and relaxed her stance. Then she bit her lip and switched sides, placing her feet at twelve and seven instead. She swallowed and looked up at Cassian with painfully serious eyes. But there was also a glimmer of something else. Trust. Not blind trust, but weighted and carefully considered trust.

"Can you fix the left side, please?" she said with a slight waver in her voice. For once Cassian issued no jokes, no teasing, or flippant comment. He recognised the significance of this step as well. He slowly reached out and turned Kyla's wrist to the correct position. When he stepped back she took a deep breath and nodded. She looked him in the eye and though she couldn't muster a smile, the softness in her eyes said enough. "Thank you."

The punching and kicking worked out. Kyla became more comfortable with the quick contact and seemed to even relax standing close to the others at the water table. As long as she was relaxed and comfortable, a friendly shove on the shoulder, a hand up from the ground, or pat on the back no longer made her wince and pull back. She remained on guard and tense in the city, particularly with strangers around her. But she even let Mor help her with the straps to some fighting leathers she had donned for a sparring match.

No one outwardly spoke about it, but through a common understanding they figured out that Cassian or Azriel could demonstrate a particular move, and then Kyla would practice it with one of the females.

The males were watching Mor and Kyla practice briefly while they gulped down water when Rhys wandered into the ring.

"This is looking good. Why am I not surprised she was able to pick it up so quickly?" Rhys said with a smile.

"It's not been without some...different...challenges," Cassian said through gritted teeth. "I want her to practice on a male-on a more likely attacker. Mor is good but she's still smaller than most males. Just getting a feel for how to reach or where to place a kick."

But Cassian was most impressed on how she picked up the correct stances and style. Her punches were weak but accurate and he only needed to correct her once for her to adapt quickly.

"It's because she has read every book on fighting styles there is, and she has a memory like a vault," Azriel explained one day. "But reading about techniques and executing them are two different things. She said once that her goal was to one day land just one blow on that bastard."

Cassian scowled at the thought of how that male had preyed on the human girl. "I don't know that she'll get the chance if I ever get my hands on him."

"Get in line," Azriel said with malice.

Kyla spun low on her feet and swept out Mor's knee causing the fae to lose balance and step back. She leapt up and stretched forward with a jab, just barely catching Mor's cheek. It caused no harm whatsoever but the fae stopped and grinned at Kyla. It was close.

* * *

It was over dinner one night that the depths of Kyla's remarkable memory were truly tapped. Rhys and Cassian had been discussing the movements of a foreign army and what their potential plans were. They were of differing opinions and the argument was getting heated.

"They cannot possibly expect that the army is going to be able to board from that coast. The terrain is just not compatible," Rhys said with frustration.

"Well they can't stay there for very transport routes are limited and too vulnerable. They'll never get enough supplies," Cassian retorted.

"They could have supplies stashed in the caves of Noradune," Kyla said casually from the end of the table. She was pouring herself a glass of wine and didn't look up until she noticed all conversation had stopped. They were each looking at her with confounded expressions. She glanced around unsure of herself.

"The caves? The ones that are only exposed at extremely low tides during the new moon?" Kyla clarified.

The fae blinked and looked around the table.

"I could be wrong but _The_ _Historical Conquests of Hexatric the Great_ described a series of complex caves on the south coast of the continent where he stashed the plunder from other kingdoms. The book said that he was paranoid and trusted no one so he chose the caves since they were only accessible at times when the moon pulled the water away from the entrances, allowing them access. So in theory, the army could be hiding something in there." She took a bite of her food and looked around the table. "Then again he was fairly unstable and followed the guidance of a set of pig's bones he placed at the bottom of his ale mug, so he might have made the whole thing up."

Rhys shifted and turned to Azriel with a questioning look. Azriel just shook his head and shrugged. Feyre looked to Cassian, dumbfounded, and Lucien raised his eyebrows in shock.

"Oh I remember those caves! We had a lot of fun with that," Amren exclaimed. "I had forgotten where they were exactly." She shook her head and smiled to herself. When she looked up to find the circle staring at her, she defended herself. "It was a long time ago!"

Rhys sighed and looked back down the table. "Kyla, do you think you could join us for a meeting tomorrow morning?"

She nodded and took another bite.

* * *

Rhys also assigned the drawing room with its big windows and extensive library as Kyla's workshop. He gave her a stipend to buy supplies around town and see if she could bring to life any of the sketches she laid out in her books. The first thing she created were a set of lighters like those she had used at the Cabin. Mixing certain minerals and grinding the powder, she was able to dip the ends of sticks into the gelatinous mixture and let it dry.

"Are you ready for this? Kyla show them," Azriel was so proud, one would have thought he invented them himself.

Kyla struck the stick on a stone from the chimney and a flame burst into life. She grinned over at Rhys who stared at it in shock.

"It's not Autumn Court fire magic, but it's handy on a cold night!" she said excitedly.

Kyla would putter away in the workshop through the night, completely losing track of time. The first to rise might find her asleep with her head on the table determined to find a solution to one problem or another.

At one point Rhys brought in an Illyrian male with a sharp eye but grizzled features. He had clearly seen many battles for one wing was missing entirely and his hands and face were marred with scars. He sniffed at Kyla like she might be carrying a disease and squinted at her through his only remaining eye.

"What is the meaning of this, High Lord? You drag me out of the mountains and into this stinking city so that I can waste my time with a female? A mortal, no less!" he spat.

"Careful, Enoch. You only get one chance to make a first impression," Rhys cautioned the Illyrian dryly. "Kyla, this is Enoch, the weapons master for the Illyrian forces." Kyla stared down the grumpy male and lifted her chin slightly. "Enoch, this is Kyla, the Night Court's...alchemist." Kyla's head snapped over to Rhys but other than that she did not give away that he just made up the title. Rhys quickly moved on before either could ask any questions.

"Enoch, Kyla has some interesting ideas to reinforce the steel of the short swords for the infantry. I'd appreciate if you would hear her out."

"What could a female possible know about weaponry? I won't stand here and be lectured to by a child –"

"It was a chulian blade, wasn't it?" Kyla interrupted.

"What? How dare you!"

"A chulian blade severed your wing. I can tell because those blades leave signatory teeth marks by their gashes. They're particularly horrific because the teeth are actually spikes of ash that have been fused with the steel."

"I will not listen to this!"

But Kyla didn't back down. "What if I told you I could do the same with the straight blade?"

That stopped the Illyrian's blubbering who looked from Rhys to Kyla and back again. Rhys just raised his eyebrows and stepped back. "I'll leave you two to it."

* * *

Late one night Kyla sat up in bed gasping for air. The dreams had been hard all week for whatever reason, and she hadn't slept well in some time. The collapsed back on her pillows but sleep would not find her. Eventually she rose and slipped into a warm sweater before padding downstairs in search of something to eat. She collected a muffin and a cup of milk and carried it into the warmth of the sitting room.

She came up short when she realised that Lucien was sitting by the fire, staring into the flames. He looked up sharply at Kyla as though she had startled him, though she doubted he hadn't been able to hear her footsteps. Kyla stared at Lucien sharply and stood undecided on what to do next. Lucien got up quickly and made to excuse himself.

"I didn't think that anyone was awake at this time," he said apologetically. "I was just leaving." He started towards the door when Kyla finally worked up the courage to speak.

"You're from Autumn, originally, I mean. Right?" Lucien stopped in his tracks and cocked his head. "But you were at Spring Court before this?" she added.

"That's right, I came here with Feyre. In a way," Lucien said hesitantly.

"Are you just trying them all out until you find one you like?" Kyla awkwardly joked. Lucien tried to appreciate the humour but his smile didn't reach his eyes.

"It feels that way. But really I'm tied to this Court because of Feyre's sister. I am her...that is, I care about her very much."

"Elain? But I rarely see her here. She prefers to spend her time at their old house just beyond the Wall-that-Was."

Lucien nodded sadly. "Yes she's always been uncomfortable as a fae so she and Nesta spend much of their time there. It's been hard for them."

"But you care particularly for Elain?"

She didn't miss much. Lucien was searching for a way out of the conversation in general without being rude and reinforcing her prejudice against him. He decided honesty might be best in this situation. Perhaps she could see that he wasn't the monster that shared his appearance.

"Elain is my mate," he said simply.

"Oh I see," Kyla nodded with understanding. But then she paused and looked at him quizzically. "I don't know what that means."

"It means we are bonded by the Cauldron. A connection deeper than love. Something ancient and primal that brings two people together in unwavering devotion." Kyla could see longing in his eyes, like the deepest well of emotion was overflowing down his face. She thought to how infrequently she saw Elain and rarely saw Lucien and Elain together.

"But if it's so wonderful, why aren't you together?"

Lucien sighed and ran his hands down his face. "Sometimes it's that easy. Sometimes the bond snaps into place and everyone is happy if not a little...intense. Mates can become extremely protective and overbearing, sometimes unprovoked jealousy boils over into fights with other males. Wars have been started for less," he chuckled sadly.

"And other times?" Kyla prodded gently.

"Other times a pair might be bonded, but one-or even both-are already in love with someone else. Love and mating bonds are not necessarily one in the same. The first is based on mutual respect and affection, whereas the latter is a bit more crude and instinctual. Those that are extremely lucky have both. Like Feyre and Rhys...though that had a bit of a rough start." He took a deep breath and waved his hand in the air, indicating that was a longer story for another night.

"So you and Elain…?"

"Are taking it slow, one day at a time. She's so young and…" he paused and looked off as though he could peer across the distance to see her, to shelter her, to love her. "I would do anything for her."

Kyla nodded at that but didn't add anything. She hadn't run away in terror either, so Lucien considered this progress. "Tarquin has invited us to visit his lake house in Summer next month. I am hoping that Elain and Nesta will join us there."

Again Kyla just nodded but didn't add anything, so Lucien made to turn and go.

"Feyre says you're an excellent rider. Horses, that is." She paused and searched the room with her eyes. "I was wondering if you could show me sometime. I mean, teach me how to ride. I don't need you to show me your riding..." she grimaced as she stumbled through.

Lucien came up short, surprised by her request. They had done their best to avoid each other these past winter months but this request showed a glimmer of progress Kyla had made towards trusting others, males in particular. "Of course. I'd be happy to."

Kyla smiled and bobbed her head in thanks. She turned awkwardly to the couch by the fire and sat down. "Would you like some muffin?"


	22. The Lakehouse

**Chapter 22**

"So the solar courts move through the seasons, but the seasonal courts are tied the High Lord's power that keep them in their...state?"

"Something like that. I'll admit it never really made sense to me, but then some things are just not worth dissecting." Feyre and Kyla were sitting on the end of the dock that hung out over a clear lake. They wore bathing clothes under sheer sundresses allowing the breeze to blow through but kept the sun from burning their skin. Feyre's long hair hung loose in the breeze and she tilted her head back to feel the sun on her face. Kyla leaned forward with her hand gripping the edge of the dock, looking down into the depths below. Her other hand gripped a mug of cool ale. "Ahh," Feyre sighed. "It feels like a long winter. This is a nice break from the daily grind."

"I love how the water is so clear but so mysterious. I wonder what's down there," Kyla said aloud.

"You could go for a swim and find out," suggested Feyre.

"Mmm maybe later. I think I'll stick to the shallows where my feet touch the ground."

Feyre opened her eyes and looked at her quizzically. "Kyla, can you swim?"

"Of course I can swim!" Kyla retorted. But then she grinned up at Feyre, "I've just never tried."

"How have you never been swimming?"

"No water. There was only a creek running by the Cabin, but no pond or lake. I floated in a pool a bit but that's not really swimming. How hard can it be?"

Feyre shook her head in wonder. "Always up for a challenge, aren't you?"

Kyla nodded. "I do enjoy learning new things. Though I need a break from the riding lessons with Lucien. That last fall really rattled me."

Feyre let out a loud laugh. "Well, at some point this trip, I will teach you how to swim. Just maybe not this afternoon when I've so much to drink."

Kyla grinned and clinked cups with Feyre before taking a long swallow herself.

"Will we meet Tarquin at all?" Kyla asked, wiping the foam from her face.

"Yes, I think he's coming by in a couple of days. Something about dealing with some upset merchants. But his cousin Varian is here already. He's been sparring with Cassian all morning, waiting for Amren to come back from her walk with Nesta. Now there's an odd couple," Feyre added with a chuckle.

"Oh?"

"Well I'm not sticking my nose in Amren's affairs. They certainly have some kind of connection. Whenever we're in meetings and she's not there he finds a way to bring her up."

Kyla tried to picture feisty Amren being chased by a male. She looked up at Feyre shyly and they both broke into giggles.

"What's so funny?" a light voice sounded behind them. Mor walked down the dock carrying her own cup of iced wine, her light dress billowing in the breeze.

"We were just imagining Amren dissolving Varian with the blink of an eye if he puts so much as a toenail out of line."

Mor barked out a laugh. "Well there's someone for everyone." She took a sip of wine and looked wistfully out across the lake.

Kyla noticed her gaze and wondered if the golden-haired fae was lonely. "What about you, Mor? Was Rita not interested in a small vacation? I certainly think she would have liked to spend some downtime with you."

Feyre choked on her drink and Mor gawked at Kyla. Kyla looked between them with a knot growing in her stomach. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pried. I didn't mean to bring it up if you don't want to talk about her." She grimaced and looked down at the dock.

"How did you know?" asked Morrigan.

"Well I...I...I didn't. I don't. I just saw the way you...and I thought it was...so I..." Kyla was panicking.

"No one else knows. Promise me you won't tell anyone?" begged Mor.

"Knows what? About Rita? Is it because she's a restaurateur? Because I really don't think anyone cares about that. I mean, I don't know how it is in the Hewn City, but I'm sure no one Velaris cares about that rank stuff."

Morrigan shook her head with an incredulous smile on her face. "You are so sweet that I could kiss you." And then she did lean over and peck Kyla on the check. "I'm not ready to tell the others that I prefer the company of females. It's considered a problem, that I won't continue our bloodline, and will create tension that I'm not ready to deal with."

"Oh! I had no idea that was an issue. I just thought...well I just thought that you love who you love. What difference does it make?"

"It makes all the difference to people who are concerned with power and purity," Feyre stepped in. "And we are not _those_ people," she said pointedly to Mor.

Mor just nodded sadly and sighed. "Someday."

Feyre clapped her hands to shake the feeling off and return to the sunny day on the dock. "This is much too serious talk for so little ale. I'm going to get us refills!" She hopped up and padded off the dock in her bare feet.

On her way by she passed Cassian and Varian walking down to the shore. Their chests were slick with sweat from their workout and they were mischievously approaching the dock. Feyre watched as they sped onto the dock and leapt over the females, deliberately landing in such a way to create as much of a splash as possible. She heard laughter break out behind her as she made her way up to the house. Just outside, Azriel and Rhys were sitting amicably at a table enjoying their own beverages and pretending to relax for once. Lucien and Elain were coming out of the house carrying some vegetables and crisps to the table.

"So who's winning down there?" Lucien asked as he sat down.

"From what I can tell, after thoroughly dousing the females, Cassian landed on the dock and shook out water from wings adding insult to non-existent injury. Mor lunged to push Cassian back in the lake but he twisted aside and she went in herself. But as he was pointing and laughing Varian gave him a shove from behind," Rhys described.

"Kyla is too busy laughing to help Mor out and looks like she's just trying to get off the dock in one piece," Azriel added with a grin.

As the battle continued Feyre wandered inside to fill up the mugs of ale but couldn't carry all three back out again without spilling.

"Can someone give me a hand and bring the rest of this ale outside?" she called through the window.

Azriel got to his feet and wandered inside. Varian had climbed out of the water and was hauling himself back up on the dock when Kyla accidently tripped Mor off the edge. She looked down in horror at the soaking fae who was half-laughing-half-choking. Rhys let out a loud bark of laughter.

"What did I miss?" asked Feyre as she approached the table.

"Varian and Cassian were wrestling each other and Varian just bumped Kyla off the dock while Mor climbed up the other side for the sneak atta—"

Feyre dropped the mugs of ale she was carrying and sprinted to the shore, waving her arms frantically. The three faeries gawked at her like she was a lunatic.

"She can't swim!" Feyre screamed. "She can't swim! Pull her out!"

They looked at each in question, wondering what Feyre was talking about. Mor was the first to notice something was missing.

"Where's Kyla?" she asked. She ran to the edge of the dock but Varian was already diving in.

Feyre's reaction had pulled the crowd down to the beach and both Cassian and Mor jumped in to search the water as well. Everyone had been so relaxed and into their cups, they were slow to react and take action. Rhys was kicking off his shoes to join them when Varian broke the surface and began swimming to shore with Kyla in his arms. Rhys ran out to meet him and carried Kyla to the beach.

Chaos broke out as everyone was talking at once.

"How is it she can't swim?" someone shouted.

"For the same reason she can't ride! No one taught her," another retorted.

"She shouldn't have been on the dock!" Lucien exclaimed.

"She was fine until the males showed up!" snapped Feyre.

"She's not breathing," murmured Elain. Kyla's face was ghostly white and blue tinged her lips. There was sea grass in her hair and under her nails as though she had tried to grip it to pull herself out.

Panting, Varian clamored to shore followed by Mor and Cassian.

"There's water in her lungs!" someone shouted unhelpfully.

Varian stumbled up to where Kyla lay. "Here, I can get it." He held his hand over Kyla's chest and used the water magic of the Summer court to pull it out. Still Kyla lay motionless on the beach. Varian tilted her head back, pressed his lips to hers and blew hard to fill her lungs with air. But instead of seeing her chest rise, he heard a vicious snarl in his ears before a furious Illyrian slammed into him.

Azriel lifted Varian off his feet and threw him into the sand. He was pummeling Varian's face when Cassian grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him off. Azriel blindly spun to his new opponent and began throwing punches.

"Azriel! What is your problem!?" shouted Cassian.

Mor jumped in and tried to pull Azriel off of Cassian who was blocking punches but trying not to retaliate. In his blind rage, Azriel didn't seem to care who was in his way so long as his fist connected with someone.

Rhys ignored the fight and bent over Kyla, delivering another breath into her lungs. Her eyes flew open as she gasped and began coughing furiously. Rhys exhaled in relief as a hand reached for his shoulder and pulled him back.

"Get away from her!" roared Azriel. He landed a right cross on Rhys' face before stumbling over his own feet.

"What the hell is going on?" yelled Feyre. Azriel was fighting wildly, hitting anyone who came close. It was sloppy and vicious, like a drunken brawl. Lucien jumped on Azriel trying to pin him down in the sand. Azriel twisted and spun throwing Lucien off and scrambling to his feet.

Feyre knelt down and propped Kyla up while she continued to cough and sputter. Her voice was drowned out by the cacophony around her so she fired Rhys a mental message. _Rhys, stop this! Just end it!_

Rhys looked over at her sharply and shook his head once with pursed lips. He knew something that he wouldn't say. He was knocked off his feet when a tangle of Cassian and Azriel slammed into him. He glanced at Feyre and Elain standing shocked on the beach and screamed, "Just get her out of here!"

Feyre wrapped her arms around Kyla and winnowed directly into the house. Elain spun and ran after her, shooing Nesta and Amren in front of her who had just returned from their walk. In the bedroom upstairs Feyre gently lay the gasping mortal on the bed and winnowed back to the fight immediately.

The scene on the beach was more confusion than combat. Rhys, Mor, Cassian, Varian, and Lucien encircled Azriel who was spinning wildly and lunging like a cornered animal. Mor distracted Azriel while Rhys and Cassian snuck up behind him.

"Azriel! Look at me! Look at me and focus!" Mor ordered sternly. The males lunged and grabbed Azriel pulling him down to the beach and pinning him there. The fight seemed to drain out of him as everyone stood around panting.

"Can someone tell me what the hell is happening right now?" ordered Feyre.

Lucien and Varian glanced at each other awkwardly and stepped back a bit. With some common understanding that Feyre couldn't see, they both backed away and headed for the house. Feyre stared after them incredulously and looked to Mor for explanation. Rhys and Cassian were still holding Azriel down as everyone caught their breaths.

"Can't you smell it?" Mor said to Feyre who just shook her head. The statement was weighted with what sounded like remorse. Down on the sand Rhys looked Azriel in the face, willing him to get his hormones under control.

"Are you good?" Rhys asked Azriel. "Can you do this or do you need to leave?"

Azriel groaned and deflated on the beach. Rhys and Cassian slowly eased off of him but remained on guard. They stood back as Azriel rolled over to his knees. He looked…devastated. He put his face in his palms. "What am I going to do?"

Feyre still wasn't sure what was happening. She looked to Rhys who was watching Azriel carefully, sympathy in his eyes. Cassian ran his hands through his hair and looked out across the water. Mor walked over to Feyre and quietly explained.

"Azriel is bonded with Kyla. His reaction was pure hormone and instinct."

Feyre remembered when she accepted Rhys' mating bond. Rhys had told her that the average male got extremely volatile, particularly around other males. Rhys himself had fought with Cassian for well over an hour, evacuating an entire Illyrian camp, before Rhys calmed down enough to be in the same room with others. Azriel had witnessed his mate nearly drown and by the time he arrived another male was standing over her lifeless body. She shuddered to think of what could have happened if the other males hadn't been there to restrict him.

"How long?" asked Rhys. "How long have you known?"

Azriel didn't answer right away. He closed his eyes and tilted his head to the sky, anguish painting his face. "When she said she wanted to die. When she was sick after we returned. Perhaps I had always known, but the Cabin…got in the way. Something snapped in me when I thought she was giving up. I was too ill to know what it was. But my heart shattered at the thought of her dying. I realised I would do anything to save her. Give anything. Everything."

"By the Cauldron…that long?" asked Cassian, astonished. "You've been keeping it under control all this time?"

Azriel stared out over the water. "It's why I stayed away so much. I couldn't…"

Rhys ground his teeth and let out a low chuckle. "We really are brothers, aren't we? Bonded to a mortal…I know your pain."

Feyre sent Rhys a wave of reassurance down their bond. _It worked out for you though_ , she said. Rhys looked over to her with the deepest love and respect, but also profound sadness. _Only after I had to listen to the sound of your neck breaking._

Feyre sighed and looked back to Azriel. "Does she know? Has she…has she accepted?"

"No!" shouted Azriel immediately. "She can never know! She doesn't even know what it means to be bonded. She doesn't want a male...I can never keep her safe. And if anyone finds out, it'll be another chink in our armor."

But Feyre wasn't convinced. "Azriel I hear what you're saying but I'm also remembering how incredibly pissed I was to find out that everyone else knew something about me and didn't let me in on it. It was humiliating." She turned to the others. "Don't you think we should learn from that and let her make her own decisions?"

The group remained silent, no one acknowledging the deception they had all participated in, or the one they were now planning. But where Feyre had been Made, Kyla was still mortal. She had learned to fight but she would always be so much more fragile than the others. Azriel would forever be guarding her and exercising every ounce of self-control to stop himself from smothering her. From keeping her to himself. Her time would be short, just a wink in Azriel's eternal life.

"She doesn't want a life bonded to me. I remind her of…what happened. And she'll remember that I didn't stop him. That I just watched. She's better off without me."

"I'm going to draw the line there. This is very…complicated. But not for those reasons. She doesn't blame you and she doesn't expect you to fix everything. You've seen her work, you know how she thinks. She's far too practical for that." Rhys took a deep breath before going on. "That blame you carry is from you. So don't you dare put that on her. Those things have nothing to do with our current situation and how we're going to move forward."

Rhys paused and looked around the group for confirmation. They each nodded in turn, keeping their attention focused on Azriel.

"Varian and Lucien know. Every male within miles has to know. Perhaps our first test will be to go in the house and get cleaned up, and then figure out how we're going to manage this," Rhys suggested.

"I still think that it's wrong we don't tell Kyla. She has a right know," Feyre insisted.

"Are you ready to explain the details how a feral mating bond works to a girl whose only knowledge of intimacy is torture and rape?" Mor said baldly.

Feyre's face blanched and her stomach fell. She stared at Mor in horror.

"That was harsh, Mor," Rhys reprimanded.

"Well it's the truth. Yes we would be keeping a secret from her because sometimes secrets are kept for a reason. Now I'm sorry that we deceived you, but can you think back to how messed up you were when you arrived? Do you think you would have flown off into the sunset with Rhys if we had just told you the way it was? Kyla doesn't need this on her. Azriel was smart to keep it from her until she can figure herself out." Mor looked sharply at Azriel now. "But he should have confided in his friends, and let us help him carry this load."

Azriel's lip trembled as he stared up at the female he had loved for centuries. "I will never stop loving you," he said at last.

"I should hope not," Mor answered with the gentlest smile she had ever given him. "But now you have a mate to look after, and as your dearest friend and sister I will honour her and protect her with my life." She knelt in the sand and embraced Azriel while he wept.

* * *

Nesta, Elain, and Amren cleaned up Kyla and helped her into bed. Waterlogged and confused Kyla had accepted the help with minimal objections. Elain and Nesta stayed in the room, but Amren went downstairs to discuss the matter with the rest of the group.

Azriel leapt to his feet when she walked in and searched her face for an update on Kyla's condition. Cassian casually moved to block his path to the door, covering it up under the pretense of offering Amren a chair.

"Down boy," Amren said sardonically. When she saw the pain in his face she clicked her tongue and added, "She's fine. She's sleeping…with some assistance."

"What did you do?" Azriel growled.

Amren rolled her eyes. "She needed to rest and I just helped her get there sooner. She'll be awake in a few hours!" She walked over the table and poured herself a drink. She said down to the glass, "I figured we needed a moment to discuss what we're going to do about this."

Azriel stalked over to the window and crossed his arms. "What do you mean, 'do'? I've had this under control for months now, nothing has changed." He stared out the window into the falling darkness.

"You can say that all you want, Azriel. But what happened on the beach back there…we need to be prepared for that. What if Kyla had gotten tangled up in that mess?" Mor asked worriedly.

"That would never…I would never…" Azriel ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

"Not to her, but you're extremely powerful. It's the others I'm worried about," Rhys added.

"I think you need to cut Azriel some slack. He has demonstrated self-restraint this whole time. He's not the only male around here who's dealing with this." It was Lucien who spoke. He rarely contributed to what he felt were 'family' discussions though often witnessed them from his proximity to the group. But this time the issue was personal, and Lucien had specific experience with living in an unfulfilled mating bond. "It's manageable," he added.

The group shifted uncomfortably. "It's a good reminder to all of us to look out for each other. We each have our…stories…and we don't need to do it alone," Rhys added sympathetically. The conversation continued over dinner but eventually died out as no one knew the correct answer. They had no experience in dealing with an Illyrian male being bonded to a mortal.

Footsteps sounded upstairs and they realised Kyla had woken. A slight tension seeped into the room as they watched Azriel and were preparing themselves for what to say. Kyla eventually found her way down the stairs. She tentatively stepped in the room and stopped by the door, biting her lower lip as she always did when she was concentrating.

Azriel stumbled over a greeting. "How are you? I mean, how do you feel? Are you alright?" He didn't approach her but Feyre could tell that he was holding back.

Kyla cleared her throat. "Fine. Good. I'm…uh, fine. Just really sleepy. Sorry I slept through supper. I had no idea I was so tired." She shook her head in confusion and Amren looked away as Azriel shot daggers from his eyes.

Before anyone could say anything, she went on. "So…I can't swim. Surprise. Just add that to the list of basic life skills I don't have, along with horseback riding, cooking, and the ability to make small talk at awkward cocktail parties."

A smile crept to Feyre's face at Kyla's unfailing ability to make jokes in tense situations. Her blunt confession and witty humour was already easing the tension in the room. She looked around and saw that Rhys had relaxed back in his seat and Mor had her hand over her mouth to hide her grin.

Varian got up but didn't move too closely to Kyla, keeping a wary eye on the dark Illyrian in the corner. "Kyla, I'm so sorry. I was so careless on the dock –"

"It's okay, Varian," Kyla interrupted.

"But I –"

"Did you know I couldn't swim?" she asked innocently.

"No! I never would have–"

"Did you push me in on purpose?"

"Well, I wasn't being care–"

"Then it was an accident," she said, point blank. She shook her head and shrugged. "Accidents happen. I'm alright in the end, only a little more waterlogged. No harm, no foul."

"Can you ever forgive me?" he insisted.

"Varian! There's nothing to forgive. I'm fine. But...if you have the time I would appreciate some swimming lessons?" she asked with a sweet smile.

Varian looked as though he had swallowed something sour. Feyre leapt to her feet to save him.

"Hey, I thought I was the swim coach!" She pretended to look hurt while she gently took Kyla by the arm and lead her towards the door. "Let's get you something to eat now that your stomach is empty of lakewater." Over her shoulder she heard Varian say to Azriel, "I wasn't going to say yes!"


	23. Bridge Building contests

**Chapter 23**

The group was sitting down to breakfast discussing the latest developments on the east coast. News had reached them of privateers harassing the fishing towns and using the rugged islands off the Winter Court's shore as cover.

"We should take a legion of Illyrians and flush them out," suggested Cassian. "We have some new trainees that I'd like to put to work. Their energy is causing problems at the camp and a little bloodletting might take the edge off."

"Are the females ready yet? We need to ensure they're being adequately included," reminded Rhys.

"I know this Rhys, but it's not that easy. We're talking about overcoming millennia of custom and tradition. We can't just blend them into the male legions and think that won't cause problems."

Rhys considered this. Female Illyrians were traditionally used as little more than broodmares. As High Lord, Rhys had outlawed the practice of wing clipping and required the commanders to include young females in their training. It had caused some tension among the ranks that they were still working through.

"Are they ready? Could we send a whole special party of females? Perhaps with a few experienced captains to oversee it," Mor wondered.

"I'll meet with the trainers and discuss it," Cassian concluded.

Kyla wandered into the dining room, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Her clothes were wrinkled from being slept in and her hair exploded in all directions. "Discuss what?" she mumbled.

Rhys chuckled at the sight of her and shook his head in exasperation. "Discuss renting out your room to Lord Keir for his visits to Velaris, since you don't seem to be interested in using it."

Kyla collapsed into a chair blinking the sleep from her eyes. She was still waking up but her mind didn't miss a beat. "Well if you think you need the money..." She shrugged and reached for the teapot.

Feyre let out a bark of laughter. "Did you sleep in your workshop again? You have ink stains on the side of your face."

"Sleep would be a generous classification," Kyla clarified with a mouth full of toast. "But I think I finally figured out how to make those splinter bombs not explode before they hit the target. Requires a spinning tail. I'll need to meet with the fletcher to figure out which feathers to use." She dove into some eggs, not even looking up at the others.

Feyre looked to Rhys with shining eyes, grinning at Kyla's tenacity. Each problem they had given her, every improvement they'd wondered about, any mixture of materials, Kyla had embraced with genuine enthusiasm. She seemed to thrive on the challenge and would have to be reminded to eat or sleep while she was engrossed in a puzzle. They were somewhere between exasperated and amazed with her work ethic.

Azriel's protective instincts, however, left him more often concerned. He tried to let it slide like the others did but he couldn't help worry she wasn't eating enough, or sleeping well. Every part of him cried out to protect her and keep her healthy. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably and looked down the table again. Kyla had her head propped up on her hand with her eyes closed and her fork loaded. He started to rise and usher her to bed when Mor noticed and quickly stepped in.

"Kyla? Hey, Kyla?" she said gently. "Maybe you should think about getting a few hours of sleep. Like, real sleep?"

"Huh?" Kyla's eyes flew open. "Can't right now. I need to head to the school. I promised the headmistress I'd help with their bridge building contest." She took another bite and grabbed an apple while she got up from the table. "I need to clean myself up first."

Feyre called out with a smile, "I think printing on your face could be the new fashion!" They all chuckled and return to their meals. All except Azriel.

"She's working too hard," he stated through clenched teeth.

Rhys considered that. "Oh I don't know. She is working hard but she loves it. We're not forcing her—she's passionate. I think she's brought a nice balance. She thinks analytically and doesn't react with an explosive temper like pretty much everyone else in this room." He looked around the table pointedly.

"I love that doesn't put up with nonsense from anybody," added Mor.

"Perhaps to a fault," Azriel said. "She has no fear response. She actually told the blacksmith that his steel was flawed because of a contaminant in the source ore."

Cassian started laughing at the memory. "She just walked right up to him and pointed it out. I thought he was going to explode in the shop, but she just shrugged and offered to correct it, chewing on a apple the whole time."

Mor looked she was going to fall out of her chair. "I would have paid a hundred gold marks to see that!"

"It's not funny," Azriel said tersely. "The blacksmith wouldn't have thought twice about killing a human."

Rhys sighed rising from the table. "We'll keep an eye on her, Azriel. You know we do. But I won't risk the wrath of the headmistress by keeping her from...whatever bridges they're building."

* * *

Cassian returned from his inspection of the female Illyrian regiment a few days later. He arrived at the townhouse to meet with Rhys and bumped into Azriel and Kyla heading out. Azriel was clean shaven and dressed in fresh shirt with a new jacket designed to fit closely around his wings. Kyla wore a long, warm coat over a winter dress, her eyes sparkling with excitement. He recognised Nuala's taste in Kyla's carefully styled hair.

"Hi Cass! We're going to a concert! Maestro Tulrik has written a new symphony and it includes a brilliant cello solo or so I hear and they needed to bring in seven trumpets for the second movement because he made it so complicated but that's not as crazy as the piano part that can only be played by Hisperias faeries because it requires at least thirteen digits and-"

"And we are going to be late if we stand here all night giving Cassian the playbill," Azriel cut in. Kyla immediately stopped talking and rushed out the door waving over her shoulder and shouting her good-byes.

Cassian could have laughed out loud as he watched the shadowsinger escort a positively ecstatic mortal down the street. To his astonishment, Azriel offered the crook of his arm and after only the briefest of hesitations Kyla reached up and took it with her own. The gesture wasn't intimate but conveyed a sense of respect and trust between the pair. He closed the door behind him and found Rhys leaning on the frame to the sitting room with a grin on his face.

"Never thought I'd see the day," Cassian said as he walked past Rhys into the room and helped himself to a drink. Rhys sighed and followed him in.

"Mating bonds can make you into a different person. That happiness is contagious. You can feel her emotion like it's your own and suddenly it's the most important thing in the world. I'm pretty sure Azriel would learn the cello and play in the orchestra himself, if it made her happy." Rhys took a gulp of the liquor and stared at the fire in reflection. "She's been as good for him as he for her. I just don't know…" he glanced up a Cassian knowingly. "I don't know how this story ends. And I have trouble seeing anything but our brother in pieces for centuries after she's gone."

"Would you have pursued Feyre if she hadn't been killed by Amarantha? If she had lived and remained mortal?"

"I can't fathom how lucky I am to never have to find out," Rhys said with finality.

Cassian understood that. That feeling of both gratitude and guilt. He felt it whenever he thought of what Rhys had gone through Under the Mountain. Gratitude for Rhys' sacrifices, and guilt for not sharing the burden. He was pulled from his thoughts by Rhys requesting an update.

"So, are the females ready to be tested?"

"It's hard to say. They have not been allowed the Blood Rite, but have progressed well through combat exercises. But by keeping them segregated it's hard to know how they will perform under pressure, with real consequences."

Rhys just pursed his lips and nodded. "Might be worth a visit myself."

"There's something else. While I was...investigating...I found an ancient female on the edge of one of the camps. She had to be a thousand years, maybe more. The rest of the camp had shunned her, saying that her mind was gone. She must have tricked those superstitious bastards into thinking she was some kind of witch or else I don't know how she kept them from putting her down. She rambled about nonsense when I tried to ask her about the females training. But I didn't ask about females. I don't know if it's hanging around Kyla or what, but I said, 'girls' and it triggered something in her."

"Triggered? Like she had a fit?" asked Rhys.

"No! Nothing like that. But she got this glint in her eye like she knew a vicious secret. Then she said that 'they stole the girl away so no one would know' and 'kept her safe from prying eyes' whatever that means. When I asked, she told me not to worry, and that 'she had everything she needed, safely shielded from the world'." Cassian sat back and watched for Rhys' reaction. Rhys didn't give him much but ran a finger over his chin as he stared into space.

Cassian went on. "I don't want to read into the ramblings of a crone too much. But I couldn't help but wonder…"

"If it's worth a visit from all of us," Rhys finished.

* * *

Rhys announced their visit to the Illyrian training camp after supper the next night. He couched it as an inspection visit. With all the skirmishes and tensions between courts, they needed to ensure that things were still in line. They had gathered in the sitting room of the townhouse, Mor returning from a dinner with a friend and Cassian and Azriel joining them after their own meals.

Mor made a face and imitated a gagging motion. "Ugh. I hate that place. It's so full of... feral males."

"Hey, that's where you met me," Cassian said defensively.

"Exactly," Mor replied with pursed lips and gave Kyla a knowing look. Kyla just giggled and continued to doodle in her sketchbook. She knew Mor was simply teasing Cassian, whom she loved like a brother.

"But it's extremely important for both you and Feyre to be seen in the camp," explained Rhys. "You are females who demonstrate power and strength and set a strong example for both those that are training, and young females who are being told they aren't good enough."

"Not to mention the fact that the males also need to see females set an example of what she can do if she's free to do it," Azriel added.

"So you'd like us to put on a show?" Feyre asked disgustedly. Rhys put a hand on hers in both support and to calm her temper.

"Not a show. Just be the strong, capable, intelligent females you always are," he clarified. "Speaking of which! Not all strength comes from muscles. I was hoping that Kyla would be interested in joining us." Rhys looked pointedly across the room at Kyla who glanced up from her sketchbook and blinked.

Azriel leapt to his feet. "Are you out of your mind? Absolutely not!"

Rhys had the sense to stay seated while the large Illyrian sputtered above him. He noticed Cassian casually move between Kyla and Azriel, and Mor was suddenly very interested in seeing what Kyla had been drawing.

"Go where?" she asked again.

"There is no way we are taking a human girl to an Illyrian training camp! Devlon will shit a brick at the trouble it will cause!" Azriel practically screamed.

"Sorry Kyla, but I'm going to side with Azriel on this one. Rhys, you know what it's like for trainees before their Blood Rites. All they want to do is fight and-" Cassian cut himself off and quickly glanced to see if Kyla had figured out he was about to say "-do other vigorous activity."

"Why are you apologising to me? Rhys seems to be one advocating for this trip," she pointed back at Rhys and then gave him a look that said she was waiting to hear his case.

"Does anyone here remember that I'm actually the High Lord and I pay your salaries?" Rhys said incredulously to the space around him.

Feyre patted him on the leg condescendingly and gave him a sad look. "It's alright darling, we let you pretend most of the time." Rhys flicked her nose playfully and looked back at the others.

"I would like to show Kyla some of the progress that has been made in building the trebuchet and shield modifications she designed. She put a lot of effort into it and it seems only right. Plus...they broke it," he explained with a grimace.

"Broke what?" she asked pointedly.

"The trebuchet. They busted one of the rungs putting it together and can't figure out how to fix it."

"They what?! I wrote out very detailed and specific instructions! An infant could have assembled it! Or, Cauldron forbid, a mere mortal! And they broke it?" Kyla was practically shooting steam out her ears. Mor clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from exploding into laughter.

"Okay I'm putting a vote in for Kyla to join us. And I'm selling tickets for those wanting to witness a human show those arrogant pricks how to fix their own war machines! A female, nonetheless!" Mor dissolved into hysterics. Cassian was trying not to smile but was enjoying the thought of it too.

"That is my point exactly!" Azriel said above Mor's giggles. "Do you think they're just going to listen to her and fix it, then she'll walk away like their egos weren't shredded by a mortal? No, they're going to -"

"Do whatever it is I tell them," Rhys cut in with a dark tone. "Things may be a little lax around here but I will not tolerate disobedience from the Illyrians or any other members of this court. I do not make unreasonable demands and I have been more than patient with their progress. But members of my court are still under my protection and my rule. They will follow those rules or they will feel the consequences I have prescribed. It might be time for a few reminders of my - and yours - authority in this Court." He looked around the room pointedly. Everyone was serious now.

Azriel looked from Kyla to Rhys with anguish in his eyes. _At what cost?_ he said mentally to Rhys.

Rhys just looked at him sympathetically. _You can't shield her forever._

Kyla looked at each of them, perfectly aware of the tension in the room. Breaking tension was her speciality.

"Well, if the theme of the trip is girl-power then it sounds like we should be presenting a united front. So I'm right behind you. Just...maybe a little further back. Like in the middle of the group. Surrounded by the aforementioned really strong, powerful females."

Feyre chuckled and shook her head. Mor smiled sheepishly and looked up at her with affection. Even Cassian rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck as if to say, 'bring it on'. Azriel stalked out of the room.

Kyla watched him go with raised eyebrows. "It is that bad?"


	24. Training camp

**Chapter 24**

They winnowed to a clearing in the forest. Mountains loomed over them and a sharp winter wind cut through Kyla's layers of clothing.

"Wow. That's cold." She lifted the hood of the jacket and stuffed her gloved hands in her pockets. The brilliant sun reflected off the snowy peaks and ice crystals sparkled in the air. "How far is it to the camp?"

"Only a mile," Cassian reassured her. "There have been some issues from neighbouring camps so they have wards in place to prevent anyone from winnowing in. The walk will warm you up," he added good-naturedly.

"Issues?" asked Feyre.

Cassian just waved a hand as if to say, 'what else is new'. "They're always bickering about some insult or another. Seems to escalate in times of peace, when they don't have anywhere else to focus their energy. The border disputes and coastal raids are keeping most of it down, but there isn't enough action to go around."

As they stomped through the woods Kyla followed behind several others allowing them to break trail with Azriel bringing up the rear. She adjusted the straps on her pack. _Really? This thing still doesn't fit right?_ It had been a long time since she had thought about pack design. She glanced over her shoulder and back at Azriel. So much had changed.

Kyla realised she hadn't been deep in a forest since they had left. Since they had lept off the cliff and landed on the patio behind a townhouse in a beautiful city. It had only been a few months. Winter had come to Velaris and stayed, not disappearing on a whim and then reappearing in the middle of the day. The snow was fun and enjoyable because everyone knew it when it would be over. They had celebrations, decorations, festivals, and dates. She could measure how much time had passed and know when to expect dusk or spring. The stability had been a surprising comfort, she realised. The patterns were reassuring and didn't feel like a vicious cycle.

And this was breaking the pattern. Visiting a new place, seeing new things. Kyla had had little time to do any reading about Illyrian camps, so didn't quite know what to expect. She knew they were visiting one of the more 'progressive' camps and that some of the more remote villages were still extremely barbaric and vicious. Rhys had been working for centuries to overcome superstition and cruel traditions, but it was difficult to manage such a wild and unruly race.

Still Kyla approached the camp with intense curiosity. She pestered Cassian and Azriel with questions about the size and layout, living conditions, and traditions. Cassian put a stop to it when she asked him to sing a traditional war chant, even though Mor added her insistence. Kyla picked up on the teasing and tried to skip the line so he couldn't ignore her request. Cassian got so frustrated he snapped out a wing behind him and knocked Kyla clean off the trail into the deep snow.

"You did that on purpose!" she called after Cassian's back.

He turned and looked fake-horrified. "Who me? I would never," but didn't stop to help her out of the snow.

Azriel came up the trail and looked down at Kyla floundering in the deep snow. "You had that coming." He reached over and offered her a hand up. Kyla grabbed hold and he pulled her back to the hard packed trail but she didn't accept the hint and kept chattering.

"How you keep from getting frostbite on your wings?"

Azriel gave her a funny look and Feyre raised her eyebrows. "Good point."

"Well I mean, I have on a jacket that weighs about one hundred pounds and I'm pretty sure my tears have just solidified in my eyes, but your wings are exposed to the elements. Bare skin."

Azriel just shrugged. "Born into it, I guess. Cassian and I were raised in these mountains. The wind and snow is in our blood. I hate the camp and what I remember here, but the mountains…" He almost looked wistful as he stared up at the peaks around them.

Kyla just looked at Feyre as Azriel walked by. "So no frostbite then?"

As they approached the camp they were able to spread out on the compacted snow. A group of sentries greeted them on the perimetre. 'Greeted' was a generous term, Kyla realised.

"Your dog was just here, snooping around. Nothing has changed in the last week," one of them said.

Cassian just sighed. "Really Devlon, don't you even try to come up with new insults? The dog metaphor is so last century."

The Illyrian called Devlon let out a snarl and that took Kyla's breath away. She quickly but subtly adjusted her spot to be standing well behind Mor and Azriel. Rhys just put his hands in his pockets and looked down his nose at the Illyrian commander.

"We have business to discuss, Lord Devlon. We are here to meet with you and make plans for the future of the Night Court, of which you are still a part." Rhys met Devlon's stare and held it fast, daring the lord to say otherwise. "We'll be staying at our usual residence, no need for housekeepers."

Lord Devlon sniffed and sneered at Rhys. "Is that because you brought your own human slave? I could smell her stench on the wind. Really, High Lord, I'm surprised you found it so easy to go back to the 'old ways' as you call them." He peered around Mor to get a better look at Kyla, who was doing her best to shift out of sight.

Rhys clenched his jaw but kept his voice steady. "The human is in my employ _and_ under my protection. You, and the rest of the camp, will do well to remember what happened to those who threatened my own during the war. I am _very_ protective of good employees." He gave Kyla a reassuring look.

But Devlon didn't take kindly to the threat. He turned up his lip up in disgust and looked Kyla up and down, like he could guess what was beneath her warm layers.

"Well maybe she would like to pick up some extra 'work' around the camp during your stay. Plenty of business opportunities here," he implied.

Both Cassian and Azriel's Siphons ignited and Feyre and Mor took a step forward. But Kyla quickly stepped around Mor whispering, "Don't let me die," as she walked by. She stopped out of reach of Devlon but in front of the others.

"I accept your offer, but my rates are exorbitant," she drawled with cocky confidence.

Azriel's eyes went wide but Mor held him back.

"The High Lord tells me that your warriors seem to be unable to follow simple instructions and assemble basic machinery correctly. How very embarrassing for you. But not to worry! I've agreed to take time out of my very busy schedule to show them how it's done. I'll use smaller words this time. Maybe more pictures?" Kyla suggested.

"How dare-"

But Kyla cut him off again. "It will cost you, however, since I'll have to adjust my rates to include danger-pay due to apparent risk of life and limb, particularly since your soldiers seem to be so undisciplined and unruly. You really ought to look into that. It will certainly make your camp more appealing for future 'business opportunities.'"

Lord Devlon was so shocked by her audacity he just stared at her, open-mouthed. Kyla looked him square in the eye like she was haggling over prices with a street vendor and not the seasoned commander of a brutal warrior race. Her confidence was an act though and she sincerely hoped that Rhys or Feyre had thrown up a strong shield around her. Cassian and Azriel were extremely powerful Illyrians but Delvon was not weak and was standing too close to Kyla for them to react in time. They were both coiled, ready to grab the mortal and fly if Devlon so much as flinched.

 _Holy Cauldron,_ Rhys fired at Feyre. He casually crossed his arms trying to look like he expected nothing less of his spunky alchemist. Underneath, he was as shocked as the rest of them. Feyre glanced over and subtly nodded before stepping up beside Kyla with her hands in her pockets. She gave Devlon an expectant look.

Devlon ground his teeth and took several calming breaths before muttering through a clenched jaw. "What will it cost me?"

Kyla blinked slowly. "The only thing you truly value: respect. You, and your warriors, will address me by my name and not 'human' or 'girl'. You will provide me the appropriate tools and safe working space to complete the tasks. Males will maintain their distance if they cannot control themselves, and will keep any sexual innuendos or crude jokes to themselves. Any violation of these terms will result in the immediate termination of this agreement and I might just sabotage some of your stuff because I'm pissed."

Devlon looked from Kyla to Feyre and then to Rhys. The latter just shrugged and raised his eyebrows. Devlon nodded once, but couldn't actually bring himself to say the words.

"Close enough!" Kyla announced.

The cheekiness seemed to snap Devlon out of his silence. "Empty threats. You can't do anything, you have no real power."

Kyla just rolled her eyes and stepped around him, making for the camp. "Of course not. But they do." She pointed her thumb over her shoulder without looking back.

Devlon saw two warriors with seven fully charged Siphons each and fury in their eyes. Energy was flowing through the Morrigan and Feyre casually held a ball of fire in one hand and swirling ice in the other. For his part Rhys just nodded knowingly and followed Kyla into the camp.

Mor caught up with Rhys and Kyla after they had passed a few tents and cooking circles. Kyla was walking with purpose then spotted a log bench and collapsed onto it with shaking limbs.

"Cauldon boil me, what have I done?" she breathed.

"That was impressive," Rhys offered. "And crazy."

Kyla put her head between her knees trying to keep herself from passing out. Rhys just looked around a nodded at a group of females carrying baskets down the path.

Mor was equal parts impressed and furious. "Have you completely lost your mind?" She grabbed Kyla's shoulder and sat her up.

Kyla gave her a pained look. "Is that really in question anymore?" She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, trying to calm her racing heart. Azriel, Cassian, and Feyre caught up then, casting looks about, searching the camp for any threats to the human who just served the commander his ass.

"I see your respect for your elders hasn't improved over these weeks, mortal," said a grizzled voice behind them.

Mor sighed. "Really? Already? They were the simplest of rules…" But Kyla put a hand out to stop Mor from maiming the offender.

"It's alright, it's just Enoch," she stood and faced the ancient weapons master. His remaining wing was torn and wrinkled and he stared down Kyla with is one good eye. "Mortal is actually a compliment coming from him."

A toothless smile slowly came to his face. "Come, Kyla-girl. I have things I would seek your council on."

Kyla grinned and followed him to his shop. From outside the rest of the group could hear her delight as she exclaimed praise over Enoch's work.

* * *

As the sun began to dip behind the mountains, the group met up at one of the training rings to speak with the instructors on the progress of the female Illyrians. There were two females sparring in the ring behind them while they discussed the matter of integrating the females into the legions. Useless arguments about pride and tradition dominated the discussion causing Kyla to tune out the whining and look around the training area.

She stepped closer to the sparring ring, mesmerized by the warriors fighting there. Their movements were fluid and graceful, like the match was a complicated dance rather than a vicious fight. But that didn't negate the precision and deadliness of each of their trusts and kicks. Each attack was blocked or dodged as the motion led naturally to a counter-attack. Kyla fell into a trance watching the females engage in battle.

Across the ring in the forest beyond a small flick of movement caught her eye. She strained her neck to get a better look and a fox stepped out of the trees briefly. It paused and stared back at the camp, and Kyla had the eerie feeling it was looking right at her. She couldn't pull her eyes away, even with the acrobatic fight happening before her.

A large hand closed around her sleeve, yanking her away from the ring. Kyla snapped back to reality, slamming her elbow back into the stomach of her attacker.

"Let go!" she screamed as she spun to face the Illyrian trainer. The male was in his prime and stood completely unharmed by her thrust, but released her sleeve and stepped back a pace. Kyla glared at him furiously.

"Keep your distance, human. Those females have been training since morning and they're even more sloppy now than they usually are," he sneered. Kyla glanced over her shoulder as the warriors hesitated in their dance but didn't stop.

"What a Cauldron full of lies!" Kyla spat back at the male. "They haven't been training all day, you just placed them here when we showed up to make it look like you actually invest in their development."

"I have given my report to the general and I have no obligation to explain anything to you! You can see for yourself their work!" he snarled.

"Ha! If they had been here all day then there wouldn't be fresh tracks in the snow leading to the sparring ring and their coats would have frosted over sitting on the edge for so long." Kyla pointed to the flaws in their charade as she stormed away. "You might want to hide the evidence if you're going to try to deceive General Cassian."

The trainer spun on the females, taking his anger out on them. "Don't you have chores to do!" But females looked to Kyla and took up their stances again.

"But we've only just begun," one of them said. The fight resumed.

* * *

The group had finished their inspection for the day and were wandering to the house Rhys said they would stay while they met with the camp lords. Azriel had disappeared into shadows, listening in to the secrets being whispered about their visit and assessing any potential threats that might be brewing. Cassian was chatting casually with one of his officers about supply chains and materials as they walked, and Feyre and Rhys had their heads together comparing notes on what they had found.

"Good catch on the prints in the snow around the training ring," Mor complemented Kyla.

Kyla nodded but kept her eyes down, watching her step on the uneven terrain. "It was pretty sloppy. Like they weren't even trying to hide their insubordination."

"I don't know what it's going to take. But I think you inspired those females to ignore his order and keep training," Mor added.

Kyla glanced up at Mor's face and gave her a small smile, then quickly tucked her chin back in her jacket. A vicious wind had picked up sending sharp snow into their faces. She tightened her hood around her face and wrapped her arms in close.

"Is it normally like this?" she asked Mor.

"I think a storm is blowing through. The weather in these mountains can change instantly. Updrafts and air currents...I just come prepared for the worst."

"Well, I'm looking forward getting out of the win-" Kyla came to abrupt stop and stared and house in front of her. Not house, cabin. It was barely more than a rustic cabin in the woods. Three steps led up to a porch where a simple wooden door hung. There was a second story, presumably for bedrooms, but the whole cabin was unpainted and rough-hewn. A cabin.

"Is this some kind of sick joke?" Kyla spat out.

As one the group stopped walking and turned to her in surprise. Kyla searched their faces for some kind of explanation as panic crept up from her toes and made her hair stand on end. She started backing up, her eyes darting around like a cornered animal.

Rhys looked questioningly at Kyla's face and then back at the cabin, before realisation dawned on him. "Shit," he said under his breath. "Kyla, this is the house where I stayed with my mother, when Cassian, Azriel and I were training. I lived here for a long time, coming and going when needed." He tried to sound casual, like the cabin was a perfectly normal part of his life.

But the mortal was panting and shaking her head. A gust of wind slammed into from behind causing her to lose her balance slightly. Mor reached out to steady her but Kyla pulled away sharply.

Mor looked confused. "Kyla, what is it? Let's go inside and we can talk about it."

"Absolutely not. There's no way." She spun around to bolt back into the camp but instead slammed into Devlon who had come up behind them. He clutched arm to keep her from running and Kyla snapped.

"Stop touching me!" she screamed at him as she pulled one of his fingers off her arm hard enough to break it. The surprising pain caught the Illyrian off guard enough for Kyla to throw her shoulder under and flip him to the ground. But the trained warrior reacted instinctively and sent a quick blast through his Siphon. Kyla flew back through air landing in a crumpled heap in the snow. Devlon leapt up to pursue his opponent when the scene exploded into black.

When the darkness lifted Devlon was stuck on the spot his feet locked in ice and the warriors around him twisting about with swords drawn. Cassian and Mor stood between them and the cabin with their own swords, looking keen for a fight. Rhys knelt over an unconscious Kyla and checked her for injuries. It was Feyre who had thrown up the darkness and her Winter magic that had locked the warriors place. She walked up to Devlon slowly, never taking her eyes away from him.

"I will call this a misunderstanding due to extenuating circumstances," she said lethally, never breaking her stride. "Mistakes were made on both sides, and as High Lady I judge it to be even. Which is the only reason you are still alive." With a flick of her wrist the ice around their feet shattered, freeing the warriors.

Rhys picked up Kyla and carried her into the house, followed by Cassian and Mor.

"But when a woman says 'don't touch me' I suggest you listen to her." Feyre turned and walked to the house without a backward glance.


	25. The Flight

**Chapter 25**

Kyla felt the warmth of the fire on her face and a heavy blanket over top of her. She kept her eyes closed as her memory processed what had happened. She knew she was in the cabin. She could hear the wind howling outside and felt the boards creaking under the strain. A draft snuck in under the door and she pulled the blanket tighter around her neck. The familiar scent of rough lumber and fresh tea drifted her way.

"Kyla, I know you're awake," Feyre said beside her.

"No, I'm not," she answered, keeping her eyes closed. She took a few more breaths and then pinched her lips. "I'm in the cabin, aren't I?"

"You're in a house. That is made out of wood. A wooden house with multiple rooms. This room is the living space and upstairs there are bedrooms. There's even a back door because Illyrians say that only an idiot would build a house with only one exit, and they do have a point on that one."

With a sigh Kyla opened her eyes and looked straight into the fire. Maybe if she didn't look around, it wasn't really there. If she kept her eyes on the fire then the rest of the room would fall away and she would find herself...anywhere but in a cabin in the woods. A tent, a cave, a street corner would be better than suffocating in here.

She sat up slowly on the couch and pinched the bridge of her nose before looking up. Mor gently opened her hand and placed a mug of tea in it. She looked up gratefully and then took a sip. "So, that could have gone better."

"How do you feel?" Feyre asked.

"Foolish," she answered. "I wasn't thinking straight. All I could see was a cabin and...I lost it." And a fox. She had seen a fox beside the training ring. It was a different fox, logic told her. But she couldn't stop thinking about it. A fox appeared just before she was asked to enter a cabin in the woods. Was she reading too much into it? She frowned and came back to the present. "How is it that I'm in the not-cabin-house when I should be lying in the snow in itty-bitty pieces?"

Feyre got up and went to the stove to scoop out some roasted vegetables and chicken onto a plate. "Lord Devlon may be a complete ass, but he is a very experienced warrior and delivered only a controlled blast." She looked up at Kyla pointedly. "Still, it was close." She handed over the plate of food.

Kyla took a bite but didn't look up from her plate. "I don't like...I can't handle…" She paused and looked at the fire. "He follows me everywhere. Every time someone comes near I can feel his hands on my body."

Mor and Feyre brought their mugs of tea to the fire and sat down not saying anything.

"Sometimes I wonder if...if I'll ever be able...to be close…" She couldn't seem to finish. Feyre sipped her tea and Mor rubbed her stomach absentmindedly.

"Are you afraid of us? Do you not trust us?"

"It's not about trust. Well it is, but I mean it's not calculated. It's just an instinctual reaction. Survival. Like I've practiced pulling away for so long I can't stop myself now." She took a small bite of food.

"I woke up to find Rhys choking me once," Feyre said suddenly. Mor looked over at her, aghast. Feyre met her eyes and nodded. "He dreamed his wings had been nailed to the bed and Amarantha was on top of him. So he reached up and choked her with his bare hands. I practically had to set the bed on fire to wake him up."

Kyla stared at her open-mouthed and Mor's brows furrowed deeply. "When? When did this happen?"

"Last summer." She looked to the fire and took another sip of tea.

"The summer!? But she's been dead for years! He can't let her haunt him like that anymore," Mor said accusingly. But Feyre just pinched her lips and looked pointedly back at her.

"And you were dumped at the border more than four hundred years ago. Do you have a belly ache tonight or is there a different reason you just placed your hand on your stomach?"

Mor glared at her furiously but snatched her hand away from her torso.

Feyre softened her tone and looked at Kyla instead. "The point is that these things take time. You can't go through something like that and think that everything will be better as soon as it's over. We have good days and bad days. But everyday we move forward and take the steps we can handle. Don't worry about tomorrow's steps until tomorrow." She looked back at the fire and sipped her tea.

"I've spent my whole life slowly dying of loneliness. Now I'm surrounded by people and I can't stand too close to them," Kyla said to the flames. They said nothing for a time before Kyla finally looked around.

"Speaking of people being close, where are the males?"

Feyre sighed and got up to put her cup in the sink. "They went out to play cards and catch up with some friends from their days at camp. I'm sure copious amounts of alcohol will also be involved."

Mor chuckled. "After the little show we put on this afternoon they felt pretty confident no one would come around the house looking for trouble."

"Though Azriel nearly exploded the roof off when he came in to find you unconscious on the sofa. Rhys and Cassian practically had to drag him out the door because he refused to leave his-"

"Sword! He refused to leave his sword behind. No weapons in the homes you know. Too volatile." Mor gave Feyre a cutting look as she collected Kyla's plate and took it to the counter as well.

Kyla just got up off the sofa stiffly and headed for the stairs. "No swords in a training camp? This place makes absolutely no sense," she mumbled as she headed for her bed.

Feyre glared at Mor but didn't say anything. Mor just shook her head and followed Kyla up the stairs.

* * *

Azriel's eyes snapped open and he lay perfectly still in his bed. Something had woken him and it wasn't Cassian's snoring. He had grown used to that about three centuries ago. They had stayed out late and had too much to drink, stumbling home as the moon was setting and the storm passed. The wind had howled outside while they ate and drank with males they had worked with for hundreds of years. Some had returned to the camp to train and find mates, others were awaiting new assignments, restless without battles on the horizon.

Azriel's mouth was parched and was reaching for the empty canteen by the bed when he heard the scraping of a chair downstairs. Someone was awake in the night. It could be any one of the family; they all had trouble with the dark things that lurked in the shadows of sleep. He rose and put on his clothes to head downstairs for water.

He saw her before she noticed he was at the bottom of the stairs. His mate was pacing in the main room, pausing every now and again to peer out the window at the blackness beyond. She had on her boots and jacket with the buttons undone, scarf and mittens in her hands. Azriel could feel the anxiety pouring off of her and it made his heart twist to see her in pain.

Rhys had explained what happened when she saw the house and how the panic attack had resulted in the encounter with Devlon. Part of him was so proud of her for fending off the warrior; the training was taking effect. Another part of him was relieved he hadn't been present when Delvon had hit her, because he would have incinerated this whole place in an instant.

But mostly he was devastated that once again he hadn't been there to protect her. He stayed away to keep his emotions under control and give her space, but he should have known what she would think of this house and how similar it was to the Cabin. He should be using his head and looking out for her, not hiding in the shadows like a coward. The others wouldn't have been able to see the trap she felt; that was his responsibility. He was so terrified of being around her. That he would lose control and frighten her away. She could barely stand the touch of another person, he didn't know if she would ever be able to be near a male again.

Now she paced up to the door and put her hand on the handle then pulled it back and clenched her fists. She turned away from the door and walked back to the table wringing her hands. She sat down and bounced her knee anxiously then got up and grabbed a glass of water off the counter.

Azriel stepped out from the stairs deliberately sounding his steps so she could hear him coming. But she was wound so tight the sudden sound in the quiet house caused her to jump and drop the glass. She cringed back as it shattered on the floor.

"Crap," she whispered under her breath. Without looking up she grabbed a cloth to begin wildly wiping it up. "You startled me." Her movements were rushed and careless and she cut up her hands trying to collect all the glass. Azriel rushed over and knelt to help.

"Here, take it easy, you're slicing your hands," he said as he picked up some pieces. He put a hand over hers to get her to stop grabbing the glass but she snatched it away.

Kyla looked up at him apologetically and bit her lip. "Sorry. I didn't mean...I…" She swallowed and stood up abruptly. "I need to go. I need to get out. Just for a bit. I know it's...not safe for me to wander through the camp, so I've been waiting for someone to get up. But I'm not sure if it's ever going to be Light. It's going to be Light soon right? The sun will come back? It's been Dark for too long. Long enough."

Azriel stood up slowly trying to emit a sense of calm. Kyla was rambling, not thinking straight. The house was overshadowing rational thought and she was back to being caught in an unpredictable loop of light and dark, never knowing how long a day would last. She was backing away from him and kept glancing to the window. A bump sounded upstairs as someone moved around. Kyla ripped over the door and bolted into the night.

"Kyla wait!" Azriel grabbed his coat of the hook as he darted into the pre-dawn darkness after her.

The air had warmed in the night. The vicious winds had been a front coming through, triggering a temperature inversion. This relieved him as Kyla had left her hat and mitts on the table and he knew a human couldn't handle the temperatures of the mountain camp in winter for long. He hustled down the trail, throwing on his jacket as he raced after her.

Kyla wasn't running but had her hands jammed in her pockets, shoulders hunched against the chill. Her head was down as she stalked between the tents and homes of the camp. In the distance Azriel could hear the lingering sounds of revelries, mixed with the sounds of people rousing to start cooking fires.

He caught up but kept a healthy distance away. "Kyla, where are you going?"

"East. I'm going east. And I'm going to keep going east for a bit. See that star on the horizon? It's the Morning Star. Rises just before the sun, always in the east. As long as that star is in front of me, I'm going east. And not turning around, not towards the Cabin."

"Kyla, we aren't at the Cabin. We're at a training camp in the Night Court."

But Kyla just kept marching. "Ah good. Then going east shouldn't be a problem." She stumbled over the uneven snow but plowed on. Her head was down and she paid no attention to her surroundings but kept glancing up at the star to make sure it was still there.

The tents began to thin as they reached the edge the camp. Azriel knew this part. Where Cassian had grown up, fighting his way to food and clothes, scraping together the meager existence bastards and the low-born could expect. Here at the fringes life was hard and brutal. This was not where he wanted his mate to be in the hours before dawn.

"Kyla you need to stop! We should go back. It isn't safe here."

"Safe? It isn't safe anywhere apparently. I'm not interested in safety, and I'm not going back. I'm never going back there. I will never be trapped in that limbo again. Never dying, but not really alive. What was the point? Why stay? No I will die-" She tripped in the snow and face-planted.

Azriel walked over to pull her up but she scrambled to her feet. "I wish you wouldn't talk about dying so much," was all he said. She brushed the snow off her face and jacket.

"I'm not afraid of dying," she said. "I'm afraid of never getting to live." She turned and stalked off.

"Kyla, I'm serious. This is a rough part of camp, we should turn around."

"I thought you were one of the most fearsome Illyrians of all time? Some riff-raff shouldn't be too much for you to handle," called over her shoulder. "Or are you afraid?" She was angry and trying to get a rise out of him.

"I am afraid," he said bluntly. Kyla halted mid-step and faced him. "I'm afraid all the time of what will happen to you. I have been since you told me you wanted to go sailing. I see your kindness and free-spirit and I'm afraid of what this terrible world will do to you."

Kyla stared up at him, her breath clouding the chilly air between them. "I don't know where I am. I don't know how to move forward," she confessed.

Her honesty cracked open his heart. He could see only her as the rest of the camp blurred into darkness. This mortal who had sacrificed herself to save him. She had saved him at the Cabin, and now her love of life had pulled him out of the shadows.

But she was hurting and he couldn't fix it. She needed someone who had been there, who understood her fears, and he was too afraid to reach out and help her. He stepped closer and for once she didn't pull back. He reached up to touch her face but her eyes went wide and shifted behind him.

"Azr-" He was ripped back and thrown to the ground. Kyla lunged forward but two arms wrapped around her picking her up off her feet like a child.

"This is just too good," snarled a voice to the side. "We picked up your scent halfway across the camp. A mortal? Really? That's low, even for a bastard like you."

It was the son of an Illyrian lord who had been humiliated by Cassian and Azriel years ago. Illyrians placed so much value in pure blood, the shame of being defeated by bastards had haunted his career. The bitter sentiment was prevalent at the camp and one of the reasons Azriel hated coming here. So common were males looking to bring him down, he couldn't even remember this one's name.

Kyla thrashed in her captor's arms, twisting and kicking the air. The warrior approached her and sniffed.

"Unfulfilled too? I'm not surprised that even a human doesn't want you. Or maybe she's just waiting for something better. Perhaps we'll test her out and report back, _shadowsinger_." He reached over and ripped open the front of Kyla's jacket.

At her scream, Azriel exploded. The warriors pinning him down were launched through the air and Azriel was on his feet before they hit the ground. He slammed his fist into the throat of another while reaching around and pulling out his opponent's blade. Two more warriors attacked from the sides but Azriel spun and took them down in one motion.

The Illyrian holding Kyla dropped her and reached for his sword but he had barely drawn in it when Azriel hacked off his arm. Blood spurted over Kyla's face and front as she scrambled clear.

"I've been waiting a long time for this," said the nobleman's son. He swung high and flipped but Azriel saw the move coming and knocked the male's feet out on the landing, driving his sword into his stomach. The rest took to the skies and fled.

The crunch of boots on the snow brought Azriel out of his warrior's trance and he saw Kyla's back racing into the darkness at the edge of camp. He leapt up and chased but not in time. The ground dropped away and Kyla careened down a slope, clawing at the snow to arrest her slide. Azriel launched himself into the sky just as she dropped off the edge.

He could see her face as she fell through the air, arms flailing as she though she might slow herself down. He pinned his wings back and dove straight down the side of the mountain. Kyla saw him above her and reached up. He clasped her arm and pulled her into his chest as his wings spread wide and caught the air, sending them soaring up the valley. She didn't squirm or try to push off, but clung to him with both arms as he flew them to a nearby ledge.

Azriel landed gently and set Kyla's feet on the ground. He let her go immediately to give her space, but instead of snatching her hands back and stumbling away, she buried her face in his chest and a sob escaped her lips. Ever so slowly he brought his arms up and wrapped them around her gently. He held his breath waiting for her to push away but she only squeezed him tighter and he could feel the sobs shaking her body.

His knees buckled and he clung to her as he sat down abruptly, overcome with emotion. He didn't say anything as she wept in his arms. It was the first time he had seen her cry. After the attack at the Cabin, she had been resigned. After he fixed her shoulder, she had absorbed the pain. When she woke from nightmares, she was frustrated. When she was lost in the market, she was terrified. When she stood on the ledge below the House of Wind, she was determined. But she had never wept in front him.

And now it was like all those tears were escaping, overflowing down her face. The tears mixed with blood to paint a gruesome image. But she couldn't stop and he didn't wipe them away.

They sat in silence together on the cliff edge, watching the Morning Star disappear and the sun light up the mountain peaks. Alpenglow painted the hillsides rose and accented the blood in Kyla hair. Without saying anything Azriel scooped her up and glided of the ledge.

He carried her over the camp and back to the house that reminded her so much of the place she hated. He wished he could take her home directly, but there would be consequences to the attack that just happened and they needed to stay and work through them. He saw that the camp was fully awake with cook fires smoking and children running about. Kyla, however, had run out of tears and fallen asleep in his arms. He wanted to hold her forever.

He landed gently in the snow in front of the house as the door flew open and Cassian and Mor rushed out to meet them. Cassian took one look at the blood soaked mortal and coiled to leap into the sky.

Azriel shook his head quickly. "She's asleep, that's all. Exhausted." He walked past them into the house. Upstairs, Cassian pulled back the covers of the bed while Mor peeled off the blood soaked jacket and boots. Azriel lay Kyla down gently and pulled the blankets over her, closing the door and returning downstairs.

Azriel had blood smears down his front but no injuries of his own. He collapsed onto the couch. "She was up all night waiting for someone who would walk with her away from the Cabin-the house-because she knew she couldn't go out alone. But I messed up. She started to open up and I lost control briefly. The males picked up the scent...it was bad."

"Devlon banged down our door not long ago. Some lord was claiming you maimed his son when he walked in on you forcing yourself on 'the mortal'. Said he's got witnesses including a friend who's short an appendage now." Cassian actually smiled at that. "Seems this son-of-a-lord forgot that Rhys can pull the truth out of their minds so it doesn't matter what stupid lies they concoct."

Azriel stood. "We'd better go. Mor will you stay and help her when she wakes up?"

"I'll take down the mirror in the bathing room. Get the blood off before she sees," Mor said gently.

With that Azriel and Cassian headed for the door and the camp beyond, Siphons blazing.


	26. Blood Rite

**Chapter 26**

"How can you call this justice? They get attacked, outright, and now they get a chance at honour and glory as their punishment?" Feyre was still fuming after returning from meeting with the camp lords. They had stood together as they collected information about the incident and listened to all sides of the story, but silently she had made her real opinion very clear to Rhys.

Rhys was trying to balance the need for justice with the archaic beliefs of Illyrians. He looked apologetically at Feyre. "They didn't come away unscathed. The one novice has lost his arm and I only barely managed to save Ragre's life."

"So Azriel defended her! But if he hadn't been there, if they had been successful in assaulting Kyla, _then_ they would we could finally punish them? Do you realise how wrong that is?"

Azriel put his hands up. "Please keep your voice down. She needs to sleep."

Mor gave him a terse look. "She's not a child, Azriel."

"No, but she's hurting and exhausted. Allowing her to rest will at least give her a chance to deal with this," Azriel snapped.

Cassian gently laid a hand on Azriel's shoulder. "She's alright, Az. We'll look after her."

"Yes, we've been doing such a good job of that," Azriel spat. He stood up from the table abruptly and walked to the window. "They likely would never have known she was there if I hadn't…"

Rhys interrupted. "But because you were there, they didn't. You stopped them and she knows it."

"And now they get to participate in the Blood Rite," Feyre spat out bitterly. "I bet they _really_ regret picking that fight now," she added with oozing sarcasm.

Rhys took a deep breath to keep his calm. They had been over this already. "The Blood Rite was called for any novice that is ready. Those in the gang are being forced to participate, whether they are ready or not. The whole camp is aware of the culprits and the other participants been given the choice to exert justice in the mountains as they see fit. And Ragre must retake the trial to regain his honour, even though he is injured. It's unlikely he'll survive."

"I couldn't help but notice that the females were once again denied the chance to participate. So a sexual predator is on the battlefield but those might truly want justice are denied the chance to exert it. Yes, this sounds fair," Mor added bitterly.

"Actually the females are allowed to participate," Feyre corrected. "They've just 'chosen' not to. Apparently they feel they aren't ready." She pursed her lips in frustration.

"They probably don't feel ready because they aren't being given the training they deserve," Cassian added.

"Maybe. But more likely they're been forced by their fathers to stay away," Rhys clarified.

"So make them! You're High Lord, Rhys. Tell the fathers they have to let their daughters participate!" snapped Mor.

Rhys looked at her in disgust. "Is that how we do things now at the Night Court? Issuing orders, forcing others to do our bidding? Think it through, Mor! I force the fathers to allow their daughters to participate, when I know perfectly well they haven't been adequately trained, and then the females are killed, thus ending the family's bloodline. If you're looking for a rebellion, there are easier ways to start one!" He was getting tired of being painted as the villain in this story. There were no easy answers but he needed to work with the Illyrians. They were a key part of the Night Court and his responsibility. They were also part of him.

Mor pushed away from the table in anger. "You make it sound like you're flipping a coin and deciding their fate. I'm saying they have rights and should get to decide it themselves."

"Mor, that's not fair," Feyre intervened. But Mor stalked to the door, grabbing her coat off the hook.

"I'm going to talk to them. The females had better be in the training ring and we'll see who's really ready." She stormed out of house.

Feyre sighed and hurried across the room to follow her out. "Mor, wait! Let's go together." The females stalked off into the camp.

Cassian looked at Rhys. "You worried about them being in camp unescorted?"

Rhys just looked down at his plate. "Based on how pissed Mor is, I'd say the camp should be worried. It's nothing they can't handle." Cassian considered this and got up to fill his cup.

The males remained at the table nursing their drinks and picking at the remnants of dinner. Rhys glanced at Azriel briefly, wondering how he was handling the attack on his mate. They were lucky Azriel hadn't killed the males in the gang, though Rhys wouldn't have faulted him if he had. The lack of discipline was deplorable and he hoped the Blood Rite would cull the herd. At least take some of the edge off.

Azriel gave the appearance of control but Rhys knew what it was to see your mate threatened. He also knew what it was to have a mate who was strong, intelligent, stubborn, and independent. But where Feyre had power and fae abilities, Kyla was mortal and so fragile. Strong for a human, but still human. Azriel was not out of line asking them to stay quiet so that Kyla could sleep. The extra layer of consideration was warranted.

They were discussing their own roles in the upcoming Blood Rite when Rhys looked up to see Kyla standing at the bottom of the stairs. He was surprised and somewhat annoyed he hadn't heard her footsteps upstairs. Either she had become stealthy or he was getting sloppy. She had washed the blood off and slept most of the day, but her eyes were hollow and her posture sagging. His heart cracked when he saw how she stayed by the stairs, her eyes darting around the room nervously.

He waited for her to say something witty. She would crack a joke, a sarcastic comment. Break the tension. She always tried to make light of things and brush them off, as if she felt that life was too short to take it too seriously. But not this time. Now she stood with her back to the wall and wariness in her eyes.

Guilt swept through Rhys' body. He had invited her to come, promised her safety. He praised her work and gave her the confidence to stick up for herself. Azriel had practically begged him to not bring her to the camp and Rhys had brushed him off, saying that he could handle the Illyrians. But he couldn't handle a mortal. A mortal whose past haunted her and made her behave…unpredictably. He turned his face away in shame.

Azriel got up and walked towards her but she seemed to shrink back. Rhys felt the devastation in Azriel as he realized the damage that had been done. The trust that had been built up and broken down again. Azriel stopped halfway across the room and cleared his throat.

"Did we wake you?" he asked gently. Kyla just shrugged and looked down at her feet. She looked back and seemed to check the room again.

"Where are Mor and Feyre?" she asked nervously.

"They stepped out to find the female novices," Azriel explained. Rhys couldn't tell if Azriel picked up on it, but he did. Kyla was staring at a closed space with three Illyrian males. Males she knew and trusted, but males nonetheless.

Cassian rose from the table and went to the stove to dish out some food. "Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat? I made it myself." He tried to sound lighthearted like he was really proud of his cooking and wanted her to try it. Kyla nodded and tried hard to give him a smile. It was a start.

She approached the table and sat down next to Rhys as Azriel gently took a seat across from her. She reached for the cup placed in front of her but dropped it quickly with a quiet hiss. Rhys furrowed his brows at her reaction but then saw both her palms were raw and bleeding slightly. She caught him looking at them and grimaced.

"I dropped a glass and tried to clean it up, but I was…in a hurry," she explained.

Rhys nodded and looked up at her eyes. "I can fix them for you, if you'd like. It won't hurt at all." She stared back and then nodded. She turned her raw palms up and slowly extended them to Rhys. He took them gently in his own hands and quickly closed the cuts with his magic. But in the contact with her hands he could feel another injury.

"Where else?" he asked softly. If she was surprised that he knew, she didn't show it.

"The back of my head. I used it to break his nose. But, based on my headache, I think it was a draw."

There it was, a small glimmer of Kyla-humour. She was upset but not broken, and just needed process it. She had, after all, been through much worse. A stone settled low in Rhys' stomach at that thought.

She didn't move as Rhys ever so gently placed his hand on the back of her head. Her flinch was almost imperceptible. Almost. He wasn't offended, just sad that the trust they had was so fragile.

There was a bump the size of a goose egg and a small cut where her scalp had split open. It must have bled profusely as all head-wounds do, but likely mixed in with the Illyrian blood she had been drenched with. He closed it easily and smoothed out the bump. She closed her eyes and sighed with relief as he pulled the headache away as well.

When he was finished she blinked and gave him a small smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. It's the least I can do."

Cassian returned to the table and pushed a bowl of stew in front of her. She grasped a spoon and made to dig in but stopped just above it. She stared at the bowl and swallowed painfully without moving the spoon.

"Shit," Azriel muttered under his breath. He snatched the bowl away, quickly carrying it over to counter and began digging through the cupboards for something else. Rhys glanced at Cassian who just shrugged his shoulders.

"It's fine, Azriel. I'm sure it's delicious," Kyla said unconvincingly.

"No, no. There's something else here to eat," Azriel reassured her.

 _Maybe if you told us what was going on, we could help you out,_ Rhys fired at Azriel.

Azriel didn't pause as he collected some cheese and crackers and a fresh glass of milk and set them on the table. Kyla immediately downed the milk and reached for the snacks. Cassian, for once, noticed it wasn't the time to make a wisecrack about her not liking his cooking.

 _It's the stew. She made stew for me when we were trapped at the Cabin,_ Azriel answered. _It was insensitive for me to not think it would trigger a memory_.

Cassian put a fist to his mouth and closed his eyes. Kyla couldn't hear them but guessed what they were discussing.

"It's alright, Cassian. You didn't know. I'm sure it's very good though," she gave him a sad smile. Again Rhys was wracked by guilt. She had been attacked in his own camp and was now trying to reassure his army general that his cooking was acceptable. It was almost too much for Rhys.

"Would you like to go back to Velaris?" Azriel asked her suddenly.

She looked up at him with large eyes. "Where are you going?"

Azriel was torn. He wanted to send her home to safety but she clearly didn't want to go without him. "We're going to the Blood Rite. It will take place deep in the mountains. All the males, even novices who are not testing, will go to supervise the Rite and bear witness."

A flash of panic came across Kyla's face. "You're leaving?"

Rhys stepped in. "All the males are leaving. But the female Illyrians will still be here and Mor and Feyre, of course."

Kyla chewed while considering this. Rhys could practically see the wheels turning in her mind as she processed her options.

"I'll stay with the females then," she concluded. "Sounds like we have some things to talk about."

Cassian sat back in his chair grinning. Azriel clenched his jaw and looked away like he was frustrated with Kyla's decision but respected it. It would have been easier for him if she had returned to Velaris but he had to let her make her own choices.

"Do you think I could have some of that stew, please?" Kyla asked. Rhys just smiled as Cassian leapt to his feet to collect the stew.

* * *

They collected at the edge of camp where the fires were lit and ceremonial herbs were smoking. The morning sun had just reached the hillside and the wind was calm. Novices tried not to look nervous as their fathers clapped them on the back and children ran about, giddy with excitement. The males had gathered at the cliff's edge, old mixing with young. Trainees who were not taking the Blood Rite stood behind their instructors and seasoned warriors strutted about with Siphons gleaming.

Rhys stood with Ferye by his side accepting pledges from those wishing to take the challenge. It was a particular honour to have the High Lord and High Lady proceed over the initiation, though Rhys noted they paid little attention to the High Lady. But Feyre held her chin high as novices approached the circle and shed their fighting leathers and weapons, bowed to the High Lord and stood on the cliff edge waiting to fly to the battlegrounds.

Cassian stood in full armor to other side of Rhys, Mor in her own battle leathers beside him. He could feel the fury pouring off her and the taste of power and strength carried on the wind to the warriors across the circle. He could even hear a few hisses now and then as they shot predatory looks at her. Rhys knew she was doing it on purpose to get them riled up. She hadn't succeeded in convincing any females to take the Blood Rite and was seething in frustration. Rhys didn't doubt she would have loved it if one of the Illyrians lost control and attacked her.

He shot Mor a warning look but she deliberately didn't meet his gaze. On Feyre's side he saw Kyla shift slightly closer to Azriel. Even she had picked up on the tension in the air.

Ragre approached the pile of armor adding his own along with his weapons. His torso was heavily bandaged and he walked slightly hunched to take pressure off his side. It was with no small amount of satisfaction that Rhys thought of how painful it will be for him to fly. If he doesn't make to the battlegrounds then he might as well keep flying, for he could never come back to the camp. As Ragre approached the group, Rhys saw Kyla's hand reach out slightly and grasp Azriel's. Azriel's eyes widened almost imperceptibly but he didn't take them off Ragre as he walked by. The look Azriel gave the warrior said his days were numbered and a target has been painted on his back.

They were about to leave when a commotion broke out among the males. He heard gasps from the females on the far side of the circle and looked over to see a female novice approach the circle. She took a deep breath and dropped her fighting leathers on to the pile before she washed the smoke of the herbs over her head and face. She approached Rhys and Feyre bowing low.

"Are you sure?" Feyre muttered under her breath.

The Illyrian female stood tall and spoke with a strong voice. "I have been blessed with three sons. My line will continue if the Cauldron takes me on the battlefield. But my legacy will be one more step for the betterment of all Illyrians, and my sons will carry that forward if I don't return."

Some of the males cried out behind her. "She has borne male triplets! She is too valuable to take the Blood Rite!"

"She must kept for breeding!" another shouted.

Rhys looked over and saw one male in particularly staring her down silently. She glanced at the male but he nodded once. Her husband was in support, a rare couple indeed. Twins were considered sacred amongst most fae and triplets were practically holy. That this female had born them and had the support of her husband to take the Blood Rite was unfathomable. Rhys imagined they had often trained together in order to protect each other and their sons. The male would have been the target of others who wished to dispose of him and claim the female as his own.

Rhys just accepted her nomination and gestured to the Cassian to begin the flight. Like a swarm of birds the males dove off the cliff in a giant flock and soared down the valley away from camp. Azriel gave Kyla's hand a gentle squeeze before joining them.

Rhys turned to Feyre. "Before it begins the novices drink a potion of faebane to dull their magic. The commanders share in the drink, so we too will be weakened. There is also much drink and revelry amongst those waiting for the finishers. We won't be able to communicate easily."

Feyre pursed her lips and nodded. "We've been there before. Might be nice to have some peace and quiet for a change."

Rhys smirked at her and leapt off the cliff.


	27. Females

**Chapter 27**

Kyla enviously watched the males fly down the valley and out of sight. The freedom to fly was something she could only imagine. Now the camp had only females and children left. Kyla caught movement out of the corner of her eye and saw that the females were milling about watching her and the two High Fae carefully. She glanced to Mor and Feyre who still had their eyes on the horizon, lost in thought.

"Feyre," she whispered hoarsely. "Feyre! Everyone is staring at us."

Feyre blinked and looked around quickly. "Are they waiting for me to say something?"

Mor shrugged. "I haven't a clue. I try to stay away from Illyrian camps as much as possible, particularly around Blood Rites."

A female approached the trio purposefully but cautiously. Her clothes were of a better cloth than average and she held her chin high as though she were trying to look down her nose at the High Fae.

"Ten marks says that's Devlon's wife," Mor muttered as the female approached.

"I will not take that bet," Kyla responded. She subtly shifted so that Mor was angled between her and the approaching Illyrian.

A few other females followed in the leader's wake, clearly elders and matrons in their community.

"By your leave High Lady, we must begin preparations for when the males return with the surviving warriors. There is much work to be done."

Feyre raised her eyebrows and looked around at the other females, all waiting expectantly for her order. Children stared at her wide-eyed and young males, not even ten years old, crossed their arms trying to look haughty.

Mor stomped her foot and huffed with annoyance. "Really? They just left. Can't we have one day to ourselves?" she mumbled to Kyla. Kyla grimaced in agreement.

Feyre glanced to Mor and then looked around the camp considering. Then she cleared her throat and stepped forward purposefully.

"The Morrigan and I are powerful High Fae. We will greatly ease the load of preparations for the celebration this year with our powers." Some of the Illyrians shifted uncomfortably or made a sign against evil, while others looked at each other and smiled broadly. "We will work hard to ensure we are ready for the males' return. But not today. Today is a day of rest. Today we may visit and relax. Take time with your children and enjoy the freedom of this day."

Kyla watched the group carefully for their reaction, moving just a bit closer to Mor. No one seemed to quite know what to do. Except the children. Children didn't need to be told twice to go play, and their shouts of joy could be heard as they ran into the camp together. The women milled about chatting, but not working had never been an option for them. Feyre also seemed to be at a loss on how to get the party started.

Kyla cleared her throat. "Excuse me!" she called to the Illyrian who had approached them. "I'm looking forward to this day of rest, but I'd like to ensure we are ready for the males' return as well. What kinds of preparations need to be completed in the next week?" Feyre shot her a grateful look. She had no idea what kind of workload they had just signed their magic up for, but couldn't ask the Illyrians lest it show that she was inexperienced. Kyla was already thought of as little more than an ignorant mortal, so she had nothing to lose by asking the stupid questions.

"We must prepare a feast!" announced the Illyrian. "Many dishes of meat and spices must be ready, as well as our beds."

Mor clenched her jaw shut on that last statement and Feyre cringed. Kyla sighed and rolled her eyes, "Wow, do I wish I hadn't asked."

Feyre took a calming breath. "Then tomorrow we will begin...cooking. Those that wish to prepare their beds may do so, and those that do not are now under my protection. They may refuse any unwanted advances." She didn't wait for their reaction but turned and stalked back through camp with Mor and Kyla in tow.

Kyla practically had to run to keep up. "So about the whole cooking thing...that's not really my talent." She stumbled a bit in the snow and Mor reached out a hand to steady her.

"You've always cooked for yourself until this year."

"Yes, I can produce food that is edible but I don't know that that's really cooking. Due to the whole lack of actual ingredients part."

Mor grimaced and glanced over to Feyre.

"Don't look at me," Feyre said defensively. "All I can make are reservations. And a very significant bowl of soup once." She gazed off at the memory she had called up.

"Do you think it would be a nice thing if we learned how to cook some traditional Illyrian dishes, or would that just bring up bad memories of growing up here? You know on their birthdays or something: we could bake a traditional Illyrian cake, if that's a thing," Kyla inquired. She had her head down watching her step, so she didn't see the wary glance that passed between Feyre and Mor. She also didn't see Mor come to an abrupt stop, so she walked right into her backside.

"Oofph. Come on! Why do I always walk into things?"

But Feyre and Mor didn't answer and just watched the group of Illyrian females that had stepped out and blocked their path. Mor tensed and Kyla stayed close behind her. They were the novices whose families hadn't let them take the Blood Rite. Kyla dared a peak around Mor, trying to determine if she should make a joke or make a run for it.

One of them stepped forward. "High Lady, you have given us leave for the day, is this true?"

Feyre squared her shoulders and nodded. "It is."

"Then we would ask the Morrigan for instruction. Our training has been lacking and stories of her strength and skill have been passed around our cooking fires for centuries. The males would...not approve. But in their absence we would like to learn what she has to teach." The Illyrian glanced to Mor but was clearly seeking permission from the ranking official.

Feyre's eyebrows shot up and she looked to Mor who was trying her best to hide a grin of pride. "If the Morrigan wishes to train you, you may take all the time you need."

Mor just barely controlled an eye roll and before addressing the females. "I will train you one condition: you each bring one friend to the training ring." The females scowled and looked at each other. "Some may wish to learn advanced combat techniques but others can at least learn how to defend themselves or escape an attack."

The females agreed and scattered to find new recruits. Mor stalked off to the training ring to get things ready.

Kyla sighed. "Does this mean she gets out of cooking?"

Feyre and Kyla looked at each and then at Mor's powerful back as she walked away. As one they cried out, "Hey, wait up!"

* * *

Hours later Kyla had been flipped on to her back for what felt like the hundredth time and lay gasping on the frozen dirt.

"Careful with that one! It's breakable!" Mor instructed her opponent.

Kyla groaned and rolled over brushing dirt and snow off her hands. "Yes thank you, Mor. No one has forgotten about my mortal feebleness." She took up her sparring stance again but whispered to the young Illyrian in front of her. "Though she has a point. Go easy."

The female novices had returned with not only one, but two or three new recruits in tow. Word had spread that the females weren't required to become warriors but could learn self-defense or basic techniques and decide what they wanted to do. Some had children hanging off them, others were barely more than children themselves. Kyla had paired up with a younger Illyrian and was already being defeated, particularly in matters of strength.

After being knocked down again she finally threw her hands up in surrender. "Alright! I'll admit defeat. This mortal body can't take any more abuse today. I'm out." She clapped the young female on the back in a manner she had seen Azriel and Cassian do and hobbled out of the ring. After collecting a canteen of water she sat next to another recruit and watched the training continue.

"Are you not interested in learning to fight?" she asked the Illyrian beside her on the bench.

The female shrugged. "I tried. But I'm not very good."

"That's okay. You saw me. I'm not very good either but I'm better than I was and that's better than nothing. You won't see me swinging a sword on a battlefield anytime soon, though."

"I don't know. It's very…painful. I don't really enjoy it," she answered morosely.

"So why are you here?" Kyla asked. She took another swig of water and looked around.

"I want to contribute. I want to do some more than breed and prepared feasts for ungrateful males. So I thought I could learn to fight too. But…it didn't go so well."

Kyla thought on this for a while but didn't know how to respond. Instead she turned to the Illyrian and put out her hand. "I'm Kyla."

The Illyrian looked at her, surprised. "I know. I'm Sian." She clasped Kyla's hand a squeezed it hard enough that Kyla cried out in pain.

"Ow! Easy with the handshake. Fragile human, remember? We just went over this." Sian looked horrified and let go immediately. But Kyla chuckled and shook her hand out dramatically.

"So you know who I am. I'd like to think that my legendary fighting skills have been discussed around cooking fires as well, but I'm guessing it more likely my reputation for awkward comments and impressive clumsiness." She looked to Sian to see how the joke would go over but Sian was still staring at her in awe.

"You built the trebuchet," Sian blurted out.

Kyla cocked her head to the side. "Actually, I designed it. The Illyrians built it. Or didn't. They messed something up and I said I would fix it. But now I'm not really interested in helping out those pricks." She gave Sian a knowing looking. "They reneged on our deal."

Sian just glanced at the ring and back at Kyla. "Would you show me?"

Kyla sat up and really looked at the young Illyrian sitting next to her. She was scrawny, even for a female though her winter layers covered up most of her body. Her hair was braided down her back but pieces had fallen out giving her a windswept appearance. What kind of support for breaking out of the mould did she have at home? Would a father or brother come banging down Kyla's door because she had corrupted his daughter? Did she care?

"I will definitely show you." They got up from the bench and headed across camp to where the device lay broken in the snow.

* * *

The day passed comfortably and as the sun began to dip behind the mountains the females returned to their homes to prepare the evening meal. Sian's mother called her home and Kyla tidied up their tools before looking for Feyre and Mor. As she walked past the tents and houses, she heard a loud clanging coming from one of them. Her heart skipped a beat as she looked about to see who else was around. But then a familiar grumbling came from the tent and Kyla realized it was the grizzled weapons master.

"Hello Enoch. You're still here? I thought you would have gone with the males," she said lightly.

Enoch just coughed and spat, never raising his head from his task of rearranging tools on the bench in front of him. "I should be. But with the wards around the camp I cannot be winnowed out. And it's too...undignified to be carried. So with shame I will hide in my tent, preparing weapons for the novices that survive the Blood Rite."

Kyla had to hide a smile at the thought of a warrior scooping up the grumpy Illyrian and carrying him off into the mountains. But then she turned serious.

"There is no shame in the work you do. It is important, vital for the safety of the camp and warriors that go out into battle."

"It is shameful that I have allowed my body to be this broken and continued to live this long. A warrior should die in battle, and be able to continue to fight until the end. I am burden on my clan."

Kyla shook her head forcefully. "No. You are wisdom and experience, and the novices should be in here everyday learning what you have to teach. It could someday save their lives. That is what you have to offer this clan."

"Just like the High Lady and the Morrigan are teaching those females? What a waste. They will never be allowed into battle as warriors. They don't even want to fight."

"I think it's important to train them, even if they don't go to war. Everyone should be able to defend their hearth and home from an attack. Those who do not wield a blade can still die on one."

Enoch paused then and looked up at Kyla carefully. He nodded in agreement then and said reluctantly, "Wise words from a mortal so young."

Kyla grinned at him. "Careful Enoch, that almost sounded a compliment." She laughed but the old male just scowled and turned his back to her.

"I heard about the...incident. Ragre is an arrogant ass and has only gotten worse over the centuries. Azriel should have killed him for approaching you and breaking the terms of your contract." Kyla stilled and looked to the door to make her exit. But then the male turned to her and handed her a dagger.

"I made this for you. It's Illyrian steel fused with ash, just like you designed. I made it sleek enough that you could conceal easily in a boot or under your clothing. So you can carry it on you at all times. In case…" His voice trailed off as he clenched his jaw in anger.

Kyla reached out and gently took the dagger from the old Illyrian. It was beautifully crafted and well balanced. Enoch had wrapped some rawhide around the handle and used hard leather for straps.

"The handle is ash as well. So that only you can wield it. No fae will want to pull it from your hands."

Kyla turned the blade over in her hands, running her fingers along the smooth handle. "How did you craft it without hurting yourself?"

"Gloves. And I'm too stubborn to be bothered much by ash."

Her eyes lit up with delight at Enoch's joke. She clutched the dagger to her chest like it was the most precious thing she owned. She slowly got up and approached the Illyrian. "Thank you, Enoch. This is the most thoughtful gift I have ever...thank you." To both their surprises she leaned over and gave him a peck on the check. "I'm glad you didn't die on a battlefield and became old and grumpy, so that I could meet you."

With that he gave her a light shove out of the tent and watched her walk back to the house in the growing twilight.

* * *

Two days later the scent of roasting meat and spices carried on the breeze through the camp. Tents and houses were cleaned out and scrubbed and a late winter snowfall almost made the camp look cheery.

Mor and Feyre continued to teach combat to any females who wanted to learn, but Kyla and Enoch collected those that were interested in engineering and weapon design. Children had begun to follow Kyla around, pestering her questions about her humanity even though she had few answers. She had never met another human before.

As she and Feyre headed back to the house that evening they came across a group of children bullying an old female carrying a heavy basket. The children were daring each other to sneak up and pull on her wings before she could turn and whack them with her walking stick. At one point the female spun to grab the child but lost her balance and the dropped the basket, dumping its contents on the snow. Feyre grabbed the child and locked the others in place to deliver a stern reprimand. Kyla crouched down to help the old female collect her things.

She was muttering apologies when the female's hand darted out with surprising quickness and latched on to her own. Kyla froze at the contact, her breath catching in her throat.

The old female's voice was harsh and raspy, as if centuries of use had worn it out. "This cannot be. You are dead."

Kyla's eyebrows shot up. "I am? No, I'm not." She looked at Feyre who had the children lined up behind her, ready to apologise. "I'm not dead, am I?"

Feyre looked between Kyla and the crone. "Last I checked, very much so alive."

The crone stood up suddenly and yanked Kyla in for a closer look. Kyla tried to pull back her hand and step away but the Illyrian was much stronger than the human, even in her old age.

The old female stared into her eyes. "Yes, you are. But I see her in you, and I watched her die. You should not be here."

Kyla's eyes were wide and she once again tried to pull her hand away. "So I've been told. Who are you?"

"I am younger than the mountains but older than the trees. I was there when the spell was cast and now it's been ruined by a mate. You shouldn't be here."

"A spell." Kyla's breath was short. "You cast a spell?"

The old female's eyes narrowed at her but then she pushed Kyla roughly to the ground and stood over her. "I didn't save you then only to have you die now."

Feyre rushed in and grabbed the Illyrian's shoulder to pull her off. "That is enough! She's here at the High Lord's request and you are ordered to leave her be!"

But Kyla didn't move as Feyre pulled the crone off of her. Her eyes were glued to the sky above the nearby ridge. A dark smudge, like swarming insects, was growing larger.

"What is that?" Kyla asked slowly.

Feyre looked up and immediately saw with her fae eyes. "It's the males returning. They're early."

Then an arrow struck the ground in front of her and she leapt back. The crone grabbed Kyla and hauled her to her feet.

"Run!"


	28. Instincts

**Chapter 28**

Azriel woke with a start, his stomach clenched in knots. He rolled over on his sleeping mat and reached for a canteen of water. He blinked to clear his head and splashed some water on his face. He hated what the faebane cocktail did to his senses. His power was dulled but it felt like a blanket had been thrown over his other senses too. Though that could be more from the alcohol than anything. He scrambled to his feet and pushed aside the flaps of the tent.

Rhys was standing just outside, staring at the campfire in the darkness. The novices had been dropped off three days ago and the senior warriors had been reveling and drinking since then. But Rhys' body language was tense, not relaxed from nights of camaraderie.

"Did you call me?" asked Azriel.

Rhys looked up suddenly like he hadn't heard Azriel approach. "No."

"Oh. I thought I heard someone call my name." He paused and watched Rhys for a moment. "What's wrong?"

Rhys clenched his jaw. "Nothing. Something. I don't know. I've grown used to having Feyre in my head all the time. It's too quiet now."

Azriel just nodded and joined him in staring at the fire. "Is that from the Daemati skills, or…" His voice trailed off as he couldn't seem to ask about the mating bond.

Rhys looked up at him sympathetically. "Both. The Daemati allows us to communicate specifically. But the bond sends strong emotions around the mental shields. The extremes-fear and love-are always the strongest, but others such as anxiety, happiness, nervousness, and joy will trickle through as well."

Azriel continued to stare at the fire and reflect on this. If she accepted, would Kyla ever be able to feel those emotions from him? She was human and didn't have the same instincts, the same primal connection.

"Can you feel her?" Rhys asked gently.

"I try not to, but every part of me reaches out for her. The shadows pull everything about her back to me. It's overwhelming.

"She loves so freely and openly, delighted by the smallest thing, that it's hard not to pick up on it, even without a mating bond," Rhys added with a smile.

"But her fear shatters me. And she had so much to be afraid of."

Shouting erupted on the far side of the camp. Males were gathering at the edge holding torches high for a better view. Rhys and Azriel headed for the fight and found Cassian standing tensely with Lord Devlon. On the ground in front of them was the only female Illyrian who had dared take the Blood Rite. She was snarling viciously at the two warriors who held back her arms.

"I told you females could not be warriors!" Devlon shouted at Cassian's face. "Look how she had defiled our sacred ceremony! She freed her wings and was caught trying to sneak off." Other males began shouted and spitting on the female.

"No! I was not! I need to speak with my mate. I need to know if he can feel it! Something is wrong."

Devlon stepped forward and punched the female hard in the stomach. She bent double, winded from the blow.

"Shut your foul mouth! You will speak when I ask."

A shout came from the back. "Kill her now and be done with it. The others are still out there!"

Rhys stepped forward calmly. "You could kill her for this violation. It's unheard for a warrior to fail at the Blood Rite. You either succeed, or you die."

A warrior drew his drew his sword and lined it up with her neck.

"No! You can't! Please you have to check on them! Something is wrong, something is off!"

"What is wrong is that we ever allowed females to train in the first place!" someone shouted.

Rhys interrupted the execution. "But bearing male triplets is equally unheard of. She may not be a warrior but she is too valuable to waste in needless death." Azriel knew Rhys didn't want the execution to proceed but he needed to convince the lords it was their idea.

The warrior with the sword stayed his blade as someone pushed through the crowd behind him.

"Daria! Daria! What's wrong? Why did you come?" It was her husband pushing through the crowd of males. They shoved him around in disgust and grabbed hold of him. One even stepped in and landed a punch across his face. The female, Daria, surged to her feet and wrenched an arm free. She grabbed the sword from the surprised, and likely drunk, executioner and swiped at her other opponent. Another jumped at her from behind but she ducked and rolled to the side, taking out a furious Devlon at the knees. She scrambled up grabbing Devlon, holding the sword to his throat.

Cassian was reaching for his own sword but froze when he saw her hostage. "Daria, you don't want to do this. Think of your sons."

"I am thinking of them! That's all I'm thinking of because I can feel them! I can feel their pain and their terror right now. Something is wrong!"

Azriel pushed through crowd and stormed up to the female looking her closely in the face. "What did you see?" he demanded.

Her eyes went wide as she beheld the shadowsinger before her. Her breathing was ragged and her voice wavered under the stress.

"I didn't see. There's a cloud, a mist over my eyes…"

"That's on all of us!" someone shouted. "It's the faebane."

Daria's eyes were wild but she ground her teeth and went on. "But I can feel something wrong. I came to get their father, to ask him to check while I'm in the Blood Rite. I did not mean to disgrace the trial…"

Azriel looked back to Rhys and saw concern growing in his eyes. "A mother has a strong connection with her offspring, almost as strong as a mating bond."

In the moment of distraction Devlon grabbed Daria's arm and twisted in one move, causing her to drop the sword and pinning her to the ground. Cassian and Azriel pulled them apart while Rhys turned to the crowd.

"Does anyone have a mate, a bonded mate, at the camp?"

The males shifted uneasily and looked at each other. Azriel knew it was likely some of them did have a mate, but it hadn't been acknowledged either because of rank or the female was promised to another already. He was getting impatient with the males' silence. Something had woken him in the night, and Rhys was uneasy as well. Now this female had broken the most sacred oath because of fear for her children.

A young male stepped forward nervously. "I have a mate. A bonded mate that is at camp. No one knows. It's new and...difficult."

Azriel didn't bother to ask why, he didn't care. He grabbed the male by the shirt and held him close. "What do you feel?" he shouted in his face. "Do you feel the tug?"

The male swallowed and began shaking under the shadowsinger's glare. "I thought it was because the bond is so raw. That it was just being away from her."

"What do you feel!?" This time it was Rhys who was shouting, fury pouring off his voice.

"Fear. Terror. Pain. I can't shut it out, even under the faebane. I was about to leave when Daria showed up," he confessed.

Cassian turned to Devlon. "Find the novices and head for camp!" He issued two more orders and then looked across the clearing as the warriors scattered to collect their weapons. But Azriel, Rhys, and Daria were already in the sky.

* * *

The males flew through the darkness, pushing their wings to the limit. Anxiety grew heavy in Azriel's stomach as they drew closer to the camp. He thought he caught the faint scent of smoke-burning flesh, not wood smoke-on the air. He glanced back at the warriors trying to catch up. Some were concerned as well, others confused as to why they had abandoned the Blood Rite. Azriel wondered at the consequences if this was a false alarm. He hoped he would get to see. He would gladly sit through the political discussions and haggling if it meant they were wrong about the camp. That their instincts were wrong.

He could feel Rhys rallying his power but they would have to land to winnow as a group, and they could only winnow to the edge of the wards. As the sun rose they came over a high ridge and Rhys let out a roar. Black smoke traced its way into the sky. The males drew their swords as they pushed their muscles to the max and dove for the camp.

They slammed into the ground like a shower of meteors, their crashes echoing off the hillsides around them. Some females screamed and stumbled to the ground, clutching children or scrambling for cover. With predatory calm Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys surveyed the camp, taking in the sights and sounds.

Tents were ripped and torn, houses and carts set ablaze. Blood spattered the snow, thicker pools around the bodies. Bodies of females. Mostly older females, he saw. A raiding party had come to take the breeding females while the warriors were at the Blood rite. Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel moved through the camp on the hunt.

An arrow flew by his head, too close. But Rhys reacted first, launching himself toward the source and taking down the shooter easily. Behind him hear the cry of a male who had just found his wife? his mother? his daughter? Slaughtered.

He looked down. A wing, still dripping blood, lay in the snow before him. His body went cold but still he pushed on. It was not her wing. Kyla did not have wings. She had nothing. No defense against this attack.

Then he saw the first male body. A wing had been crushed but the killing blow had been a quick stab under the ribs where his armor plates met. Close combat would have been necessary to deliver such a wound. The second male body had an arrow straight through his eye, has face frozen in shock. _Feyre_ , Azriel thought. They had fought back.

After that he found more male bodies, and sometimes pieces of bodies encased in ice. Her falling ice trick she had discovered during the attack on Velaris.

Cassian stalked up his flank. "It seems that allowing females to take the Blood Rite was not the only violation of sacred acts committed this night. They came during the ceremony," he said with disgust.

The clang of metal sounded around the corner and a cry made Azriel's hair stand on end. A female was engaged in combat with one of the males from the attacking clan. Blood seeped down her leg and she struggled to maintain her footing. She lunged for the male but lost her balance as he blocked the blow, and she fell to the ground. Azriel was running for the duel but he would not get there in time to stop the male. Then the male jerked up and screamed in agony as blood rained down his back. One of his wings fell to the ground and the distraction was enough for the female on the ground to drive her sword though is gut. The attacker fell on top of prone female revealing the terrified teenager behind, a bloody sword clutched in her hands.

The trio ran up to the females who were trying to shove the fallen male's body off the novice pinned underneath. They weren't even strong enough to move the male, and yet as a team they had taken down a full-fledged Illyrian warrior. Azriel and Cassian took up defensive posts while Rhys knelt beside the wounded female on the ground.

"High Lord," she gasped. "You came."

"We all came," Rhys whispered gently. He put his hands on her wound but his power was too muted to heal it. "You need a healer."

The teenage female muscled in, practically shoving the High Lord of Night to the side. "I'll get her there. You need to help the novices. Feyre and Mor are overwhelmed." She didn't wait for Rhys' order but bent low and helped the female to her feet.

A wailing scream ripped them to attention. The sound of voices and crying grew louder as they approached the centre of the camp. The males ran into the chaos of females racing about and children wailing. A mother clutched the limp body of her son to her chest, weeping as she rocked back and forth. Wounded lay on the ground while others leaned over to help. Young females ran through the camp carrying buckets of water and blankets.

Azriel saw Rhys scanning the crowd desperately looking for Feyre, as Cassian demanded answers from the nearest female he could find. She clutched her bundle to her chest as the general roared in her face then pointed to a large tent across the square. Cassian picked up a wounded female from the ground and carried her to the tent with Azriel and Rhys scanning the surrounding area behind him.

The tent was really a medical shelter. The floor underneath was slick with blood and the reek of death hung in the air. Feyre was at the centre of the chaos, leaning over table healing a wounded novice. She was so focused on her task she didn't notice Rhys walk up to her. She let out a sagging exhale as the wound closed and took several breaths before opening her eyes. She immediately latched onto Rhys as he pulled her into his chest. Azriel scanned the tent but Kyla was nowhere to be found.

"Rhys!" Mor called out from the tent entrance. She stormed in covered in mud and blood with fury in her eyes. "How many returned?"

Rhys let go of Feyre and turned to Mor. "All of us. But some are further behind after collecting the novices."

Mor then noticed Azriel and Cassian as well. Relief passed across her face but she didn't waste her breath on gratitude. She was in full warrior mode with only her next battle strategy on her mind.

"If we rally a party immediately we can chase the group that escaped. Only a handful made it off the ground but we think they're tracking the females and children who fled into the forest." She looked from Cassian to Rhys, avoiding Azriel's eye.

"Mor-" Azriel started.

"We don't have a head count so we can't be sure of casualties. Too many are missing still," she interrupted.

"Mor, where-" he stepped towards her but Mor kept her focus on Rhys and Feyre.

"We need the healers to this tent immediately. The females are collecting anyone they can find alive and bringing them-"

"Morrigan! Where is she?" Azriel shouted.

Mor pursued her lips and finally looked Azriel in the eye. "I don't know. She was with some children when they came. She was trying to take cover with them and I lost track...we're looking."

Azriel reached out with his senses but couldn't feel anything, either from the faebane or because she was...he couldn't bring himself to think it.

Rhys stepped in. "Cassian and Azriel, lead the hunting party and track down those still in the woods. Mor, organise those left at camp and gather the wounded. Feyre and I will stay here and heal as many as we can."

Without a pause they rushed from the tent and back into the chaos outside.


	29. Magic

**Chapter 29**

Kyla reached down and scooped up the child in front of her. The young female whimpered in her arms and clung to Kyla's neck. She pulled another along by the hand trying to get the children to move faster. A bruise was forming on her cheek from a backhanded blow she had taken when she wrenched on a male's wing to get him to drop the child he was trying to carry off. The male had turned in rage and knocked her aside with ease but then snatched her off the ground when he realised she was human. He likely would have snapped her neck had the crone not slammed her staff across his head and crushed his face with the butt end of the stick.

Kyla had stumbled away and run for the training ring, hoping to find Mor and some shelter. The children had followed her instinctually and more joined them as they fled. Kyla has seen magic flaring as Feyre picked off the attackers while simultaneously trying to organise the novices.

A group of males had surrounded them, herding the children in close. Kyla spun wildly drawing her dagger but Enoch and the crone attacked from the outside and distracted them long enough for Kyla and the children to slip through. She made for the cover of the trees with a swarm of young Illyrians around her.

Now she stumbled through the snow, breathing heavily under the weight of the child and herding the others along. "Fly! You need to fly! Even from tree to tree! We need to cover our trail!" she urged the children. They swooped in and out of the trees ahead of her but some were too young to fly far. She collected the ones on the ground getting them to run as fast as their little legs could take them.

She dared a glanced over her shoulder and saw a male closing in fast. The trees were too dense for his wingspan at least, but he had no troubles running through the snow. Just before he reached them Kyla hunched over, protecting the child in her arms from his strike. But instead he slammed into a shield of hard air the crone had thrown up.

The old Illyrian had her arms outstretched holding the shield in place so Kyla could flee, but the mortal just gapped up at her.

"You have strong magic! Who are you?"

"Run, stupid girl!" The shield cracked but before the male could move a sword cut through the air and his head fell to the ground. Enoch leapt over the body and lifted a child from the ground before leading the way.

An arrow struck the tree above their heads and Enoch dropped low to a crouch, placing the child on the ground beside him.

"I will find the shooter while you lead them away. You know the spot," he said to the crone.

Kyla's head spun between them. "What do you know? Tell me!" But the crone grabbed Kyla's wrist and pulled her away as Enoch drew his sword to face the attackers. Kyla twisted out of her grasp and grabbed Enoch's only remaining wing, forcing him to look at her.

"You lied to me," she spat in his face. Enoch's eyes grew wary and he glanced at the crone. "You're not old and crippled at all. You are the great warrior you've always been." Enoch grinned and ran into the trees with a roar.

* * *

Cassian kept his eyes to the ground but all of his senses stretched wide to pick up any disturbance in the forest. The tracks were difficult to follow, as if someone had tried to hide them. Every once in awhile they found a mark in the snow where a child had landed, and Cassian guessed they were flying between the trees. But there were foot tracks, adult, with a smaller stride following behind. Kyla would be on foot and had a child in tow, he thought.

He dared a glance at Azriel who was watching his back, eyes on the forest and tension in his face. Cassian could feel the stress pouring off his brother as he tried to overcome the faebane and dissolve into shadows to search for his mate. Cassian hoped the other males in the party could keep their instincts in check to stay alert. Their children were out here as well and tension was high.

He picked up a trail of blood and followed it to a gasping male in his dying breaths. He saw a wound in the male's side. Not particularly large, but deep and blood rushed out with no sign of clotting.

"This clan is as pathetic as reported," the male gurgled as blood leaked from his lips. "You have females doing your fighting and mortals raising your young."

Cassian leaned in close, the point of his sword to the male's throat. "Tell me where she is and your death will be swift," he said with lethal calm. But the male just coughed and sputtered, dying before Cassian got the chance.

Azriel approached him glancing down but then looking back up to the forest surrounding them. "He died from a simple wound. Poison?"

Cassian shook his head. "I don't care how, so long as it was painful."

Movement caught Cassian's eye and he raised his fist to get the surrounding warriors' attention. Everyone froze as Cassian crouched low and advanced through the trees. On the edge of his vision he saw it again. He twisted with sword drawn but saw only an animal sitting in the trees, watching him calmly.

"It's just a fox. Probably drawn by the smell of blood. Let's get back to the trail." But Azriel barreled past him heading straight for the fox. "Az! What are you doing? The trail will go cold!"

The fox turned and fled with Azriel right behind. Cassian whirled and ordered the warriors to follow but keep their senses open as Azriel paid no attention to his surroundings. He was entirely focused on the fox, even stumbling at times over logs as they crashed through the forest. Cassian could feel an edge of panic coming off his brother and his pace increased as well.

Then Azriel crashed to the ground taking in a face full of snow and the fox disappeared through the trees.

"No! Come back! Where is she?" he called after the fox in desperation.

Cassian ran up behind him. "Azriel, it's a fox! What is going on?" Then he looked down and saw her body in the snow, neck snapped. It was the old Illyrian crone that had been the reason they came to the camp in the first place. It was she who had led the children out of the camp, and the attackers had ended her easily. Cassian bent down and brushed her eyes closed.

Azriel knelt beside her, his shoulders hunched. "We never got to speak to her. We should have gone the first night we arrived, but with everything..." He looked up at Cassian. "Immortality has made us forget the importance of time."

Cassian just shook his head and looked at the males that had circled them in a defensive position. The stench of death wafted through the night air. Death and blood. He furrowed his brow.

The crone wasn't bleeding, her neck was broken. So where was the smell of blood coming from? He looked around and saw that there were also no tracks around the crone. She had been the one covering their trail, and now she had hidden wherever the group had gone. Or maybe the children had all been picked off.

Another scent caught his attention. Wood smoke and...a tang of herbs? It was unfamiliar and made his nose burn. He twisted his face and followed the scent. The entrance to a small cave was concealed in the terrain beside them. He walked forward slowly with his sword drawn, approaching the cave entrance with trepidation. His warriors followed. Cassian's heart began to race as he drew nearer to the entrance and the scent of death and blood grew stronger. Dread began to fill his bones.

A few steps into the cave his eyes adjusted to the light of a small fire and he froze in horror. The warriors gasped behind him, every one of them breaking their training. Some even cried out and dropped to their knees in despair. Cassian scanned the small cave, his body practically convulsing in rage.

It was a tomb. The bodies of more than a dozen children lay on the ground or slumped against the walls. Pools of blood leaked out beneath them or they lay in twisted, broken positions. The males just stared and stared, not believe their eyes. Azriel stormed up beside him and Cassian instinctively reached out to grab his arm.

"She's not here," he said forcefully. The cave was small and the bodies were clearly all Illyrian.

"She must be. The fox…" Azriel mumbled as he took in the horror scene in front of him. A warrior screamed in agony and ran forward scooping up the body of his child, clutching it to his chest.

"This doesn't make sense. Why would they kill them? They were trying to take them," Cassian wondered aloud.

He looked away from the grieving father and stepped further into the cave, checking all the bodies for life. He reached down to feel for the heartbeat of a child whose throat had been cut and then pulled his hand away from the body, still warm from life.

Still warm.

He stilled as he realised how close they had been to arriving in time. Too close. He looked down at his hand and saw there was no blood on it, even though he had just touched the child's neck. He touched the blood again but it didn't transfer to his hand. It was an illusion.

He whirled and stood in one motion. "This is a trap!"

The warriors were instantly at the ready, swords drawn, searching for the threat. Cassian lurched around the fire, knocking over a small bowl of smoldering herbs on his way. Was it is poison in the air? They needed to get out of the cave immediately. But before they could move a great whoosh left the cave like the hillside was exhaling a deep breath.

The air rippled in front of him and Kyla's figure took form. She stood tall, holding both hands in front of her, clutching an amulet. Her eyes were squeezed shut tightly as she muttered under her breath. She was sweating profusely and trembling under the strain, her lips dry and cracked from saying words over and over again without pause. Then her eyes snapped open as she drew in a sharp breath. Shock and fear flashed across her face before she crumpled to the ground.

Azriel was kneeling beside her instantly. He lifted her head and shoulders gently, searching for injuries. Kyla gasped for air and twisted away from him, scrambling on her hands and knees before she vomited onto the cave floor. Azriel gently placed his hand on her back as she continued heaving. Her arms gave out and she collapsed to her side, shivering violently as she brought her knees to her chest. She was not well, but she was alive.

Cassian heard coughing and whimpering beside him and tore his eyes away from his favourite mortal to see the children of the cave were not dead at all. They began sitting up, blinking sleepily, some crying. The blood had vanished from their bodies though many still had cuts and scrapes.

Azriel looked up from Kyla to Cassian. "It was a glamour. Designed to deceive whoever came in here into thinking they were dead."

Cassian exhaled sharply. "How? Was Kyla holding the magic?"

Azriel just shook his head in disbelief as the warriors began collecting the children and reassuring them. Cassian ordered the males to take the children back to camp while he and Azriel crouched over Kyla.

"How is this possible?" he asked Azriel.

"There were once witches among the humans. It was said they studied with the fae to learn magic. They were hunted down and slaughtered after the treaty was signed. She could be…" Azriel's voice trailed off as he reached down to brush the hair away from Kyla's face. She continued to shake violently her eyes wide in shock, and didn't seem to notice Azriel's touch.

Cassian could feel this brother's worry as deeply as if it were his own. Through Azriel's bond they had all become hyper-aware of Kyla's emotions, whether from instinctual protectiveness of a family member or a magical connection.

"We need to get her to camp," he said gently to Azriel.

Azriel crouched low over Kyla and placed a hand close to hers, but not touching. "Kyla, we're going move," he whispered gently. He licked his lips and hesitated before going on. "I need to carry you. Is that alright?"

She didn't respond but reached a trembling hand out and grasped his fingers. Azriel closed his hand around hers and gently scooped her up as she closed herself tightly into a ball. Cassian carried two children with him and they left the cave.

* * *

Rhys shifted uncomfortably in his chair as they sat around the war table discussing the attack. Survivors had been collected and casualties accounted for. No one had been taken, though it was unclear if any of the attackers had escaped. Discussion now centered around identifying the attacking clan and retaliation. A headache formed when his powers had returned slowly and he drained them immediately healing the wounded.

"The cowards have no tattoos tying to them any clan. Where did they come from?" a captain asked.

"Mercenaries? Why would they want children? Females, I can understand, but are they training them young now?" another asked.

The conversation went around in circles again as Rhys pinched the bridge of his nose and controlled a sigh. He caught movement at the door of the tent and saw a child subtly trying to get his attention. It was the messenger he had requested come find him when Kyla woke. Rhys glanced up to see if Azriel had noticed, but the shadowsinger was scowling down at the map on the table, clearly not paying any more attention than he was.

Rhys rose discreetly and slipped out the back without anyone noticing him. So bent on revenge, the Illyrians didn't even notice their High Lord leave the discussion, he snorted. The child flew off when she saw Rhys had gotten the message and Rhys stalked through the town of resurrected tents and buildings still smoldering.

He was so lost in thought he didn't notice immediately the number of people milling about the square. Females huddled and whispered together. Males stood together as well, trying to look inconspicuous. Some children chased each other in a game until a father reached down and grabbed one by the arm, shushing them sternly. As he approach the tent where they had housed the shivering human, Rhys saw several female novices watching him carefully then scanning the crowd around them. They were guarding her, he realised.

He nodded to them and stepped through the flap. A female bent over the cot murmuring something to Kyla. She stood up quickly as Rhys approached and nodded to her as she passed him to leave the tent.

Kyla face was pale and clammy and she was trying to control her shivering. He lowered himself onto the stool and smiled down at her.

"S-ssso cold," she whispered.

Rhys nodded. "The magic took a lot out of you. But you can rest now, they're all gone." He started to reach his hand out but caught himself before he rested it on her shoulder. Instead he pulled the blankets up higher.

"Can't stop...the crone, she has power...she did the spell and taught me the words." Kyla swallowed, her eyes wide and searching. "She left us. She left to draw them away. I held the spell, but she's coming back."

Rhys reached for a cup of water by the bed and held it to her lips. She gulped it down thirstily, hardly breathing between swallows. Her head fell back and she closed her eyes panting lightly.

"You need to find her. She knows something. She was angry with me. Angry for putting myself in danger. You can search her mind, Rhys. You can get her tell me." She tried to sit up but instead just rolled to her side. Rhys tried to get her to lie still without touching her shoulders and making her uncomfortable. He didn't want to tell Kyla now that the crone was dead and her knowledge lost.

"Just sleep now and recover from the magic. We can talk about it tomorrow."

Kyla rocked her head back and forth as though the weight of the blankets was holding her down. "Can't sleep…it's too much...too many words…" She looked at him in desperation. "Please…"

Rhys nodded gently and slowly placed a hand on her forehead reaching out with his magic and pulling her down into a deep rest. Her face relaxed finally and she stopped shivering.

Rhys found the camp-mother who was watching over her just outside. "More heatrocks and warming blankets, if you can. Keep this place as quiet as possible and let her sleep deeply." He looked up and saw he was being watched carefully. Conversations had stopped as people leaned in to hear an update on the mortal inside. A mother with a child on her hip approached tentatively.

"Excuse me, High Lord. We came to stay thank you to the mortal-Kyla. She carried my son through the woods. I owe her everything," she pleaded.

Rhys blinked at her and then glanced around seeing a line up of parents wishing to pay their respects. Kyla had saved the lives of more than a dozen children by leading them away from camp, and holding that spell. He cleared his throat and spoke up, but not so loud as to wake her. "Kyla needs to rest. She doesn't have the stamina of Illyrians or other faeries. I'm sure she'll be happy to talk with each of you in a few days."

There some grumbling about 'a few days' but most groups moved off and back to rebuilding their lives. Rhys walked past one of the female novices, unofficially standing guard, and muttered to her. "No one but the Inner Circle enters the tent."

* * *

Azriel walked through the camp in the dark hours before dawn. Cassian had been up late organising scouts and spies to send out and uncover the identities of the attackers. Rhys and Feyre would be awake soon to help with the funeral that would happen today, honouring those who had fallen in the raid. They had lost eight females and four children. But so many had been saved because of Mor and Feyre, and the determination of the novices. It would not be long before they were granted the Blood Rite, Azriel thought.

Unsurprisingly he found himself nearing the small tent where Kyla slept. Another cot had been set up inside for Mor, both in case the human woke in the night and to keep her many admirers away. The parents of the children she had protected in the cave were painfully grateful. They brought food and blankets, offered services, and lit candles outside in thanks. Each was acknowledged but firmly turned away as the mortal lay recovering. Rhys had quieted her racing mind and pulled her into a deep sleep, the kind of unconsciousness they entered when their magic had been drained to the last drop.

The sentries stiffened as Azriel stepped out of the ice fog, his looming form taking shape. They technically weren't guards. They kept a respectful distance from the tent, talking in low voices, sharpening blades and pretending like they weren't watching whoever came down the path. With Mor inside the risk of an unwanted visitors was low, but that seemed to only strengthen their resolve. Mor had taught them, fought with them, and now lay vulnerable in a deep sleep of exhaustion in the same tent as the girl who had saved their children.

Azriel nodded his thanks to them as he wandered by. Through the walls of the tent he picked up the heavy breathing of Mor's deep sleep and-nothing else. He strained his ears to hear Kyla's even breaths and steady heartbeat but only silence greeted him. He whirled and walked to the tent so quickly, a female down the path leapt to her feet, a hand going to her sword. Azriel tried to calm his breathing and control his impulse to rip the tent door off. He peeled it back gently and peered inside, eyes adjusting to the darkness. Mor lay sprawled on the cot closest to the door but on the far side of the tent the blankets were peeled back and the cot was empty.

Azriel's heart began to race as he ran all the possibilities through his mind. Where could she have gone? How come the sentries didn't come find him when she woke up? He was wound so tightly a tap on the shoulder startled him and he spun, drawing his sword in one motion. Rhys was standing behind him with his hands raised in surrender, his expression equally surprised. Azriel immediately stood down and started to explain himself but Rhys quickly put his finger to his lips and pointed to Mor's sleeping figure beside them.

The males retreated from the tent several paces before speaking.

"When did she wake? How come no one told me?" Azriel accused.

"I don't know and because you are not her mother, so don't take it out on me," Rhys responded. Azriel snarled at him but kept walking.

"I just mean...what if she needs something," Azriel tried to clarify as he stomped through the snow.

"I know exactly what you mean. And I know it's made worse being at this camp. I'm trying to help you find balance, not keep her from you. We all are."

Azriel huffed and ground his teeth. "Is someone with her now? She's so weak...if something happened…" He paused walking and tried to reach down the bond. But he wasn't Daemati and couldn't pick up on specifics like Rhys and Feyre could. The mating bond whispered her deepest emotions to him even though she was unaware of it. Sometimes he felt guilty for reading her heart. But mostly he thanked the Cauldron for being able to be near her.

Rhys looked around and reached out as well. Her mental shields kept him out mostly though he could pick up on immediate memories and thoughts before they got locked away. She didn't even know she was doing it and the magic behind the shields was still a mystery to them.

A flash of anger pricked Azriel's spine. He moved his legs and followed the tug through camp. They arrived at a tent set off to one side, candles and pine bows lining the entrance. Azriel swore softly and ran his hand down his face. She was inside the tent where the bodies of the dead lay in preparation for the funeral pyres. How she had known about it or found it in the dark, he had no idea.

He stepped through the door and saw several figures sitting next to the bodies of their loved ones. Candles burned in silent vigil next to them, the light sparkling off of hoarfrost in the tent. Mothers and daughters, sisters and wives lay in a neat row. Azriel couldn't remember if he had ever seen so many females lined up at once. On the battlefield they were collected individually, or lined up between male soldiers as they fell. Seeing so many dead females at once seemed to have a greater impact.

Rhys spoke the words Azriel was thinking. "They should have all been trained."

"Then they would have at least stood a chance," Azriel added bitterly. It was arrogance that left them defenseless.

Two male children were among the ranks. Barely more than toddlers, one had caught an arrow in the chest and the other's wings had been hacked off and he bled out. Mor had stayed up most of the night, sewing the wings back on to carry him to the afterlife.

On the far end of the row a figure stood, bundled in a heavy coat with her hood drawn in tight against the chill. She wasn't a small person, but seemed petite compared to the faeries around her. Her arms were crossed and she stared down at the body in front of her.

Rhys and Azriel approached carefully so as to not startle her. She didn't look up or acknowledge their presence, but continued her hard gaze as though she could will the body of the crone back to life.

"What was her name?" she croaked through dry lips.

"Eskrie," Azriel answered gently. "It seems everyone has forgotten how old she was."

Kyla nodded, keeping her eyes on Eskrie's face, so Azriel went on. "She was a bit of nomad. Travelled from clan to clan selling potions and spells, settling here and there for a century at a time before moving on."

When Kyla didn't say anything Azriel looked to Rhys for a hint on how much she knew about the crone. Rhys just shrugged and shook his head but Kyla interrupted their silent conversation.

"She said I was dead. Said I shouldn't be here."

Rhys' furrowed his brows as he looked down at Eskrie's body as well. "You shouldn't read into it too much. Everyone says that her mind was gone. That she spoke nonsense."

Kyla huffed lightly. "That would explain why she said the spell was ruined by a mate. Whatever that means."

Azriel's head shot up and he looked at Kyla's pained face and then away quickly. He swallowed hard and tried to speak but found a cough in his throat instead.

"Where did she come from?" Kyla asked tersely.

"No one knows. She showed up about two or three hundred years ago and was...eccentric back then. Kept to herself and spoke to few until Cassian met her last week. She would leave for weeks on end and suddenly reappear, so people left her alone mostly," Rhys explained simply.

Kyla looked up and turned her head slowly to face Rhys. "Cassian spoke to her last week?" She pinned him with a glare. "You knew she was here?"

Rhys shifted uncomfortably under sharp eyes. "We only just found out. It was one of the reasons we thought we should all come-"

"You knew and didn't seek her out, didn't talk to her?" Kyla's voice rose slightly.

Azriel stepped in to explain. "We did when we got here but she wasn't there. Then there were meetings and-"

"And drinking, and sparring, and male hormone driven war games."

"Lots of things happ-"

"I've been here for a week teaching physics and play fighting, when the only lead we've ever had was sitting next door!"

Azriel looked to Rhys for assistance and brought his hands up in defense. Rhys took a step closer to get Kyla's attention and she backed away automatically.

"When did you think we should talk to her? When did _you_ decide it would be good to tell me? After your meetings, your Blood Rite? In case you've forgotten, I don't have forever to work this out! I've already spent half my life rotting in a prison and she was the only person who's ever shown any clue of knowing who I am!" she screamed at Rhys.

Azriel stepped closer and kept his voice low. "You are-"

"Mortal? Human? Kyla? I don't know where that name came from! She gave me a spell and I held it for hours! Hours! I held it until I thought I would die under the weight of it, but once again I didn't! What am I?!"

Rhys glanced around the tent and gestured for her to stay calm. "Kyla, you should keep you voice down in here…"

"Or what? Do you think they're going to wake up? They're dead! All of them! Those girls are dead because of male faeries! Stupid males and their damned arrogance and traditions! Because of male blood lust and savagery! They're dead and I'm not! I'm alive with no idea what I'm doing here!"

She was backing away from them as she screamed in their faces. The males glanced at each other and around the tent to see if anyone was listening. Azriel could feel fury but mostly despair pouring off of her. Despair at not knowing about her past and her purpose, feeling lost in a world of powerful beings and things beyond her control. Rage and pain passed across her face as she pushed by them to exit the tent.

It was still dark outside though dawn was creeping on the horizon lighting the sky to the east. They followed Kyla at a respectful distance as she stomped her way through the camp. Her paced slowed though, as her anger drained her small reserve of energy. She stumbled down the path, visibly struggling to continue but refusing to turn and ask for help from the males she knew were not far behind.

She came around the last corner before her tent and her knees buckle. Rhys and Azriel simultaneously lunged but it was a sleepy-eyed Mor who caught her before she hit the ground. Mor looked down at her flushed cheeks and sweaty brow in concern then questioningly to the males. Azriel made a gesture that said 'I'll explain later' and backed off reluctantly while Mor helped his mate the last few feet to the tent.


	30. Mood Swings

**Chapter 30**

They gathered at dusk around the funeral pyres. The stacks lay in a row adjacent to the cliff edge, in full view of the valley below. Families gathered close to the pyres of their loved ones with the general crowd behind them. As High Lord and High Lady, Rhys and Feyre stood in the centre, paying equal respect to all who had fallen. Mor and Cassian visited and gave condolences to each of the families while Azriel and Kyla stood at the end, next to a lonely pyre with few others around.

Earlier in the day, Kyla had sought out Azriel and Rhys to apologise. Mor had told Azriel that Kyla had slept again until the early afternoon and when she woke could only think of her outburst and insisted on finding the males. Azriel tried to reassure Kyla there was nothing to apologise for.

"I feel...awful," she insisted. "It wasn't your fault but I needed someone to blame. I was fine and then suddenly so...angry. I couldn't even see straight I was so mad. I don't know where it came from."

Rhys had looked her in the eye sympathetically. "The human body wasn't designed to channel so much magic. I can only imagine the side-effects…"

Kyla looked more concerned than relieved from this explanation but gave them a wan smile before being pulled away to speak with more grateful parents.

Now she and Azriel stood with the others at the funeral, silent and somber, but comfortable again in each other's presence. Azriel watched her gaze at the body before her, unmoving. No tears fell down her face, her breath calm and even.

"It doesn't seem right, to say good-bye to someone who was supposed to live forever," Azriel offered. It occurred to him that she had never lost anyone. She never had anyone to lose. She had been part of this world for such a short period of time but was already close to so much pain and death. Too close.

"I doubt anyone else will care, but they should. He had wisdom from centuries of experience...but few bothered to ask," Kyla said to the funeral pyre before her. "I wish I could live for a thousand years and see all the things he's seen. What I would do with a hundred lifetimes."

Azriel looked at the mangled face of the old Illyrian weapons master. He remembered Enoch being old when he was child. They used to try to sneak up on him and steal knives from his shop. "We found him not far from the cave. The bodies of three others were around him. I don't know how many it took to kill him, but he went down fighting."

A smile slowly spread across Kyla's face and then turned into a grin. "I'm so happy for him," she tried to stifle a laugh. She looked up at Azriel with shining eyes and he stared at her in horror. "He said he was a burden on his clan. He wanted to die young, on the battlefield, a warrior in his prime. He felt robbed of that chance when he lived in spite of losing his wing and eye." Kyla looked back to the pyre with a smile. "So he did die a warrior as he always wanted."

A prayer was said and Feyre started all the fires at once. As they flames grew stronger, lighting up the early night, people began to file past, some laying bouquets of evergreens or adding ceremonial herbs to the fires. Kyla and Azriel remained by Enoch's fire, lost in their own thoughts.

A group of males came by and Azriel recognised some of them from Ragre's attack the previous week. He tensed and shifted slightly between them and Kyla, who didn't seem to notice their presence. Outside the circle of firelight, a sneering voice spoke low so that only they could hear.

"Finally got rid of that extra weight. He was a disgrace to this camp that he lived so long," Ragre muttered with disgust.

Azriel didn't even think Kyla had heard, but before he could do anything she sprinted across the circle and slammed her foot into Ragre's knee. He had been smirking at this friends rather than watching the mortal and so was caught completely by surprise. His leg collapsed to the ground and Kyla landed a second kick to his face to ensure he went down completely. Before Azriel could pull her off she whipped out a dagger from her boot and held it to Ragre's throat, with one foot on his chest. He could have easily thrown her off, and half away across the camp, but instead gasped and cringed away from her blade.

Azriel stood beside the pair in shock, his sword at the ready but unsure how Kyla was holding the warrior at bay. His gang seemed equally unsure, though everyone was tense and ready for a fight. Kyla's whole body was shaking with fury as she spoke to the crowd but didn't lift her eyes from Ragre's face.

"Touch me and I will take great pleasure in running him through!"

Everyone shifted with uncertainty waiting for someone else to call her bluff.

She leaned in close to Ragre's face. "You will never be _half_ the warrior he was," she said through clenched teeth. "He had more honour and strength in one wing than you can even imagine."

Ragre's eyes were wide with rage but he couldn't move against her blade. He cringed like the dagger was burning his flesh and a small trickle of blood ran off his neck. "How dare you draw a blade against a warrior who saved your pathetic life?"

"I dare. All the females here, dare. We lived _in spite_ of your archaic warrior practices, not because of them. And this blade burns your soul because of someone else who dared when others thought to throw him away."

"You crazy witch! You and those ancients brought that attack on this camp!" he sputtered.

"If I'm a witch then I curse you! I curse you with long life. That you should watch those you love get taken from you. That you grow weak, and useless, and carry that shame with you until the end of time."

She spat on his face and pushed off his chest, clutching the dagger in front of her. Boldly she shoved through the other warriors who pulled back as though she were contagious. Some even made a sign against evil as she walked by.

Azriel sheathed his sword and ran after Kyla as she stormed through the camp, rage flowing off of her. Just as he caught up she turned abruptly and dropped to her knees, vomiting into the snow beside the trail. Azriel knelt down to hold her hair back but she gasped and pulled away before she realised it was him and looked up apologetically.

"Sorry. I thought…" she put her face in her hands. "I thought I was about to get killed for that stunt I just pulled."

Azriel glanced behind them but none of the males had followed. Kyla slowly got to her feet sucking in fresh air. Azriel reached for the dagger she had left in the snow but dropped it immediately as he felt the power brush over him. It didn't hurt so much as startle him.

"Don't! Don't touch it!" Kyla bent over and grabbed the dagger off the snow. "It's ash fused with Illyrian steel. I came up with the methodology, but Enoch actually pulled it off." She looked down at the dagger in her hands. All the fury was gone in an instant, replaced by the deepest sadness. "He gave it to me. So that I could stand a chance at defending myself."

Her eyes were fixed on the blade in her hand as her memory wandered off. Like a switch had been flipped she had gone from insanely angry to unbearably sad. Before that she had been laughing at the funeral pyre. Azriel's head swam as he tried to keep up with all her extremes. This last week had been a storm of events and he saw the exhaustion weighing down on the mortal as her temper shortened to a breaking point.

He looked at the blade in her hand and reached over, gently closing her fingers around it, but careful not to touch it himself. "I'm glad you have it, but I hope you never have to use it."

"I already have." She pursed her lips and sighed. "I don't think Enoch had 'attacking full grown Illyrian males' in mind when he gave it to me." A smile slowly spread across her face. Again from unbearably sad to happy; Azriel was bewildered. She turned onto the trail and walked back to the tents with a spring in her step.

* * *

The following evening they winnowed back to Velaris arriving in front of the townhouse. The group was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, and they trudged inside the house talking lightly but looking forward to their own beds.

Nuala stood inside the foyer and directed them to dining room where a late supper had been laid out.

Kyla peeled off her heavy outer layers and freed her feet from her boots. "How did they know we would be back right now to have the food perfectly ready?" she said to Mor beside her.

The fae just shrugged and said, "They're wraiths," and walked into the dining room.

Cassian moved into the space she made and hung up his own coat. Kyla looked to him for an explanation. "What does that mean?"

"I try not to think about it too much. It hurts my brain," he sighed as he walked into the dining room.

A snorted sounded from within where Amren was already seated. "That's not too hard."

Cassian just walked over and picked her up in a vicious embrace. "Oh Tiny One, how I missed you!"

Amren cringed and pulled away from his affections. "Ugh, you smell like camp. Smoke and booze and male pheromones." He dropped her to the ground and she brushed off her clothes like she could wipe away the smell. But Cassian had already pulled up to the table and started filling his plate.

The rest took their chairs without much discussion and between bites updated Amren on the meetings and events from the Illyrian camp. Kyla kept mostly silent, only answering direct questions and not elaborating in painful detail as she usually did.

"Interesting timing that the other clan should attack right during the Blood Rite. Isn't that sacrilege?" Amren asked.

"Very. It could be coincidence, I suppose." Cassian thought on it. "The Blood Rite was only called because Azriel held back on killing the sons of a some high ranking officials." Azriel shot him a sharp look that told him to leave the rest out.

"Either way, they didn't account for Feyre and Mor to be there," Rhys interjected. "The casualties were tragic, but it could have been worse." He glanced down the table where Kyla picked at her food and didn't look up. "There were some surprising heroes."

Mor looked over to give Kyla a warm smile but the mortal wasn't looking. She just moved the food around her plate like she wasn't even listening. Mor glanced around the table and saw that the others had noticed but they were all too tired to either know why or try to find out. They sat in silence for a while as Rhys filled Amren in on some of the details. When Kyla suddenly spoke up, it caught them all off guard.

"How old do you think I am?" she asked.

They paused.

"I'm an adult right, I'm not growing anymore. But how much? Twenty? Thirty years?" She looked to each of them but no one had an answer. Her gazed stopped on Feyre, who had the most experience with humans ageing.

Feyre twisted her mouth, looking at Kyla trying to guess. "Mid-twenties maybe?"

Kyla nodded, considering. "Sometimes my body feels worn down, like I should be an old lady. Like today. Everything hurts today."

Mor tried to reassure her. "Well it's been a rough week…"

"And I'm only human," Kyla finished with derision. "I'm going to head up. I feel like I could sleep for a month." She got up and headed for the door without looking back, leaving a half-eaten plate of food behind.

The rest of the table just watched her go with eyebrows raised. Amren leaned back in her chair and glared at Azriel. "What did you do?"

Azriel looked hurt and then angry at the accusation. "Why would you assume that I did something wrong?"

"Because you're male. It's inevitable."

"I can't have done anything, I can hardly keep up! She's headstrong and stubborn and has no regard for her personal safety. It's no wonder she gets into trouble! She-"

"Is a strong, independent, intelligent woman," Mor cut in. "Sounds like you and Rhys should be comparing notes."

Feyre took it as a compliment and grinned at Mor, then at Rhys.

"Just don't study out of Tamlin's book," Mor added.

That elicited a snarl out of Azriel. "I would never do that!"

"Do what? Be protective, domineering, loving, caring?" Feyre prodded. Rhys looked offended by her description and she put a hand on his knee in reassurance. "Tamlin was all of those things, and he did it from a place of love. But he was trapped in tradition and being manipulated by outside forces so he couldn't find that balance between protection and freedom, caring and restriction. He knew it wasn't working but didn't know how to fix it, and neither did I." She gazed up at Rhys with the deepest affection.

"Wanting to protect her isn't wrong Azriel, but you can't blame her for wanting to enjoy life even though she might get hurt," Mor added.

Cassian looked from Feyre to Mor and poured himself more wine. "You know I like a female with fire in her, but you have to admit it's a bit different. She's human living in a faerie world, and it's inherently more dangerous for her."

Azriel added to Cassian's point. "In the last few months she has fallen off of three precipitous cliffs where I just happened to be there to catch her before she splatters on the rocks below! How many cliff faces have you fallen off in the past few centuries?" he said to Mor.

Cassian grinned and took another gulp of wine. "Well I've jumped off a few-"

"She's done that too." Azriel caught himself but it was too late. Everyone paused, waiting for an explanation. He shifted uncomfortably and sighed, sagging into his chair. "At the Cabin, she tried to…"

No one looked at each other as they processed. Mor remembered the scars on Kyla's wrists and the disappointment in her voice when she said it hadn't worked. It hadn't been the only thing she tried, Mor realised.

Azriel passed his hands over his face. "The trip to the camp was a mistake, just like I said it would be. This past week she's been so angry and frustrated, her moods shift by the minute so that no one can tell what she'll do next, her nightmares are back probably because she was almost killed on numerous occasions-"

"Hold on, she was angry and easily frustrated? She usually enjoys a challenge, that doesn't sound like her," Feyre interrupted.

Mor looked to off into space as she called up a memory. "You said that Ragre picked up your scent from across camp…"

"Moody, muscles aching, lacks focus…" Feyre added.

Amren leaned across the table and looked at Kyla's half eaten plate. "She only ate the rice."

Mor was on her feet and heading for the door immediately. "I'll find her."

Feyre was right on her heels. "I'll see what I have upstairs. I may have just run out."

Amren called out as they left. "Let me know if you need me to go to the store," then leaned back in her chair and took another sip of wine.

The males remained seated looking bewildered at the sudden flurry of activity. Azriel started to get up to follow them out of the room but Amren called him back. "Oh no, not you. You'll stay right where you are."

* * *

Mor found Kyla curled up on the bed with her knees to her chest. She came in slowly and sat on the edge of the bed, not too close to the mortal who liked her personal space. Kyla half rose and looked at her questioningly.

"When did it start?" Mor asked gently.

"What start?"

"The bleeding, has it started?"

Kyla sat up completely then and stared hard at Mor in disbelief. "Is that what...no. No it hasn't started. I've never…"

Mor gave her a reassuring smile. "It's alright. It's perfectly natural, and it explains a few things. Like why you feel so crappy, and why you bit Rhys and Azriel's heads off the other day."

Kyla groaned and fell face first into her pillow. "Please don't remind me."

Mor chuckled. "It's fine, their feelings will recover. Just be aware of your timing and try not to take it out on your friends. It can be hard with all the hormones flowing, but it's a natural part of being female. A woman."

"And does it naturally start in your mid-twenties?" Kyla asked to her pillow. Mor looked at her quizzically, so Kyla clarified. "You could measure time with something that's supposed to happen every month, so it never happened. And then when he started...I didn't have to worry about getting pregnant."

Mor stopped breathing for a moment. She forced to herself to keep her face blank and nodded slowly, but couldn't speak.

"I guess it just took the last few months of 'normal' living for my body to adjust and function...normally."

Mor searched for something to add. "I honestly don't know why it hasn't started before now. It could have been being in the camp with all the females..."

"Rhys told me that in the Illyrian camps it used to be that females had their wings clipped when they first started bleeding. And that his mother took tonics and starved herself so that she wouldn't start because she loved to fly so much."

Mor nodded sadly. "And when she did start they found her out because the male Illyrians can pick up the scent. Not just the blood, the hormones. It's why Ragre came and found you from across the camp."

Kyla closed her eyes and cringed at the memory.

"And our own male Illyrians don't have a clue," Feyre added as she walked in the room. "They're not as...feral as those at camp." She sat down on the bed with a basket of supplies in front of her.

"Take your pick."


	31. Trespasser

**Chapter 31**

The High Fae followed the cloaked figure through the dense forest. They had just exited a crude tunnel through the mountain and were weaving between trees ensuring they didn't leave a trail behind them. The High Fae wasn't sure he could find his way back, but he supposed that was the point. Regardless, he had the power and might to work his way out of this place if needed.

He wasn't planning anything, wasn't thinking clearly. He just wanted to prove that he was right. That the Night Court was a seething pool of manipulation and greed, no matter what pretense that disgusting group of so-called courtiers put on. Their alliance in the war had been tenuous at best. He had spent the years following trying to piece together his court.

Spring had arrived in the Night Court, though snow and a chill in the air still lingered here on the mountainside. Down in the expansive valley below the birds busily collected materials and the faint sound of music carried up the hill on the wind. The High Fae came up short and roughly pushed the hood of this cloak back. He stared in shock at the city below him. It filled the valley with rich buildings and architecture. Bridges spanned the river and four distinct market squares were busy with activity. Ships were unloading their wares at the docks and carts moved through the streets transporting the goods to stores.

Tamlin had no idea it was even here.

"Keir wanted you to see this for yourself, though he couldn't say as much. The High Lord will search his mind for any betrayal but will find none since I was the one who showed you the way," said the guide. "You might find this a valuable bargaining chip in your negotiations and milord expects to be compensated appropriately."

"That sniveling idiot can expect nothing from a High Lord. He'll get what is offered," spat Tamlin. "You have shown me nothing but a city. I don't see how it can be used to my advantage."

The guide sneered at him. "It is precious to the High Lord and High Lady of Night. They defend it with their lives."

Tamlin winced at the words High Lady and didn't say anything. He looked out over the metropolis and across the valley to holes dug out of the cliff face on the far mountainside. They were windows with balconies, he realised. A long staircase was carved into the rock on the side. Tamlin continued his path through the forest and headed for the busy streets below.

What he found was not the frenetic activity of a people trying to make a living. Instead the faeries were relaxed and smiling, going about their business and visiting in the stores. Cafes lined the streets and music carried out of galleries and studios. A bell tolled behind him and he heard children laughing and shouting. No screams of terror, no tension and cowering.

High Fae and lesser faeries walked the streets equally. They smiled at each other and at him. Either they didn't recognise him or they didn't care. At one point he was looking up at a building when he stepped on something firm but mushy.

"Hey watch it!" said a voice below him. A short, squat faery with green shimmering scales and a long tail like a lizard sat on the street below him. He glared up at Tamlin expecting some kind of apology. The High Lord had never apologised to a lesser faery in his life. But he looked up and saw that others were watching the scene unfold and giving him dirty looks.

He swallowed and found some words. "I uhh...I'm sorry. I didn't see you," he mumbled down the faery. The lizard-like faery flicked his tongue and looked as though he was going to add something but didn't. It was like that tongue flick picked up on the deep power lying within the High Fae and thought it better to let it go.

"Thank you, friend. Just watch your step on your visit."

Visit? How had he known that Tamlin wasn't from Velaris? He glanced around wondering how badly he stood out. It was hard to know. Fae were dressed in all manners of clothing. From traditional dresses to pants and tunics. Some had wings, some had tails, others wore nothing but the fur on their backs. Tamlin found it hard to believe that his simple dress stood out any more than usual.

Shrieks rang out behind him and he spun reaching for the daggers hidden under his cloak. But instead of enemy forces, he was surrounded by children laughing and shouting as they sped down the street to a park. A child tripped and fell but was scooped up immediately by a faery with twin dragon-fly wings and flown over to the greenspace.

Tamlin's hand relaxed on his dagger as he watched at the mixture of faery children running down the street together. The patrons in the store smiled at each other and continued on their business.

A light but stern voice cried out behind him. "Soarise, don't!"

Tamlin was nearly knocked off his feet when a body slammed into him from behind. He staggered forward and snarled at the foe who set upon him. It was a female with shoulder length brown hair and light skin that had been kissed by the sun. She wasn't very big but solid enough to knock him off balance. She scooped up a young faery as a cart rumbled past.

"I'm so sorry!" said the female. "She was about to run into the street—" she turned the face of the child in her arms and held her chin, "—without watching where she was going." The child's lower lip trembled. "It's alright, no one was hurt. But be careful next time!" The female smiled deeply and put down the child who clutched her hand and dragged her across the street to the park. While being pulled away she called over her shoulder and back to Tamlin, "I'm so sorry!"

The shopkeeper behind him let out a bark of laughter. "Those younglings just adore that girl!" Tamlin looked at the fae questioningly. It was a strange choice of words, but this was a strange place so he didn't say anything. Instead he followed the string of children until he arrived at the park himself.

The trees were spread out around the edges and a play structure with posts and bars and ropes for climbing sat in the middle. Benches dotted the grassy area and a fair view of the city could be seen between the branches where fresh leaves were budding. The children were shouting and laughing as they played their games and climbed over the structure.

Tamlin felt ill. This city was nothing like he expected. No one cowered in the streets of the Night Court. There was no darkness, no seething hate like he had always been taught. The shops were bright and airy, the people were busy but friendly as they went about their business. Bright banners hung from streetlights and troubadours busked on the corners. High Fae and lesser faeries lived and worked together, their children oblivious to any rank or class as they played their games.

But he also saw some of the scars that were just below the surface. Buildings had evidence of damage and monuments were placed around the streets with the names of those who had died in the Attor's Attack. He had heard about the attack on a city in the Night Court. He had no idea it was this beautiful place.

The female was wiping sand from the face of a young fae and reassuring her with soft words and a smile. She reached back into a satchel at her side while the child rolled up a pant leg to reveal an artificial limb of whirling metal and gears. The adult reached around and used a tool to adjust something on the leg. The child bent at the knee and flexed, testing out the limb before grinning and smothering the adult in a hug. The moment was short lived though as the child was quickly called back to the games.

Tamlin nearly collapsed on a nearby bench, overwhelmed with the scene he was witnessing. Everything he knew about the Night Court was brought into question. Centuries of lies building the reputation of the evil people of Night. What was real? The Hewn City had been exactly as he remembered. Dark corners whispered to him and the people there spoke with two faces, never revealing the cards in their hand. But this...

A scuffle broke out between two children on the play area. The adult female called them over.

"Hey now! What is the problem?" she said sternly. "What is going on?"

One child stuck out her lower lip and whined. "We're playing Knights and Bandits but Mattias says I can't be a High Lady."

Mattias jumped in. "That's because she wants to be High Lady of Spring and everyone knows there's no High Lady there!"

"I don't care! I could be High Lady there if I want!"

"Mattias, why would you say she can't be High Lady of Spring?" asked the female.

"Because the High Lord of Spring is cruel and locks females away in high towers and never lets them out. And if they try to escape he sends the Bogge after them."

Tamlin's eyes went wide with rage. The female looked horrified as well.

"What a terrible thing to say! That is not true at all! Why would think that?" she reprimanded.

The young faery started to look uncertain as he explained. "Because Meitre's mother has a friend whose cousin had a neighbour that once travelled through the Spring Court and said so..."

"I'm not sure that is the most reliable source of information. Did you ever stop to think that maybe the story had been twisted?"

The child shook his head and the young female who was denied the role of High Lady crossed her arms as if to say 'so there.' Mattias started to pout. "But Feyre was rescued by the Morrigan from Spring..."

"Feyre chose her own path and Mor just gave her the freedom to do that. I'm sure there are many other happy stories that end in Spring. But I guarantee that she wouldn't want you or Meitre's mother's cousin's neighbour's friend or whomever going around and saying such horrible things about other courts, particularly Spring. It's special to her!"

The young female then piped in. "Kiki, my uncle says that people think the Night Court is awful. That it's always dark and scary and people are mean all the time. And that anyone who trespasses is flayed and hung in the city square to be eaten by vultures!"

The adult's eyebrows shot up and she hid a smile. "And is that the Night Court that you know? I don't think I would have come to live in a place like that." She tucked her hair behind her ear. Her ear. Her ear that was rounded and not pointed. Tamlin's shock drained the fight out of him. That's what the shopkeeper meant by 'girl'. It was a mortal girl who was supervising the faery children in the park. Tamlin looked around to see if anyone else had noticed this, but found the park mysteriously empty of adults. In fact, no carts passed by on the streets and the shopkeepers had closed their doors.

The mortal girl crouched in front of the faery children. "Don't believe everything you hear. Travel to the Spring Court someday and see for yourself."

Mattias gave that serious consideration. "Are you allowed to travel to Spring?"

The mortal pursued her lips. "Well maybe not right now but you have lots of time to make the world a better place."

"Will you come with us to Spring, Kiki?" the young fae asked.

The mortal smiled broadly. "I will likely be an old lady by then but I would love to visit the Spring Court someday. Just be sure you keep an open mind and don't let rumour and gossip form your opinion of others."

"We promise, Kiki," they said in unison.

"I know for sure that Rhys wouldn't want you to say such things about others."

Rhys? As in the High Lord Rhysand? Such an informal way to speak about their High Lord, thought Tamlin. But the children didn't flinch.

"Then why does he let the other courts say such mean things about us?" asked one child.

She grinned and nodded her chin behind them. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

They spun as one and let out a cry of joy. Of glee, not terror, as they noticed the High Lord of Night leaning casually on the play structure, wings on full display. Tamlin watched in horror as the children shrieked and giggled, flocking to their ruler. Rhys pretended to look terrified and started turned to run away, flapping his wings wildly and uselessly. The children made chase and tackled him to the ground. Howls of laughter carried across the park, and the human girl grinned and glanced over to Tamlin.

Tamlin stood and approached her to demand an explanation. Rhysand was moving further and further away from them, as if luring the children away. One child broke off from the group and ran to the mortal girl who scooped her up in one motion. Her smiled faltered as she saw Tamlin approach.

"You're human," he stated stupidly.

She looked him straight in the eye, with no trace of fear. "You're trespassing."

Tamlin stopped short of reaching her and looked around him. The children were gone, their laughter silenced. Instead the park contained only powerful faery warriors. He was flanked by two giant Illyrians in battle armor, their Siphons fully charged. Three females without wings also encircled him. They had not drawn weapons but stood ready, their bodies tense, as if waiting to see what Tamlin would do.

Feyre was there with them. He gave her a pained looked. Feyre thought he might attack this city. This city that had been a secret for thousands of years. She was prepared to defend it with her life from Tamlin, the male she had once loved. Emotions swirled through him, hate mixing with sorrow, rage dampened by confusion.

He looked back to see that the human had walked away and was greeted by a frantic mother in the distance. She had been kept away, Tamlin realised. The whole park had been evacuated, the children lured away from him, and the mortal girl used to keep him distracted. Had she known who he was the whole time? She glanced over her shoulder as the Illyrians grabbed Tamlin by the arms. Rhysand stalked up to him with fire in his eyes.

"This was not part of the deal."

They winnowed.

* * *

"So that was the High Lord of Spring?" Kyla asked with her mouth full. "That's awkward..."

"Awkward? Infuriating is more like it." Mor was seething. She hadn't been able to calm down since the incident, even after Tamlin had finished his 'negotiations.' They had returned to the Hewn City under guard and met with Keir, but the discussion didn't go as planned. While Keir had thought Tamlin would use this knowledge as leverage to get what he needed, Tamlin's worldview had been dumped upside down, and he proved unable to participate in the discussion. He wanted to know more, how it was possible. Now they sat down to dinner in the House of Wind but the topic always came back to Tamlin.

Kyla cringed. "Except that Mattias and Safira had a bit of a tiff in one of their games and then made some...unfavourable claims against the Spring Court. Tamlin heard the whole the thing."

"Unfortunately we have bigger problems than what school children said about the High Lord of Spring during their games," said Rhys.

"In the meantime I might ask Lucien to do a small lesson on Spring Court in school and revamp our geography lessons," Feyre added.

Mor shrugged. She couldn't care less about Tamlin's feelings. The conversation continued about what Tamlin had requested and how they would respond. A messenger arrived at the door and delivered a letter to Rhys. His eyebrows rose and he looked up around the table.

"It seems Helion has invited us to a Beltane Ball. He's using it as an excuse to invite several courts to participate in meetings beforehand."

The table erupted with chatter and discussions.

"Will Beron be there?" asked Mor.

"I'll take Beron above Tamlin," replied Feyre.

"The security will be a nightmare," Azriel huffed.

"But plenty of females in their finery..." Cassian mused.

"Pig," stated Amren.

"It's suppose to be a political meeting, Cassian," Rhys said reproachfully.

"Can't it be both?" Cassian replied with fake innocence.

"I can't wait to see Viviane. Do you think she's pregnant?" Mor asked Feyre.

"How long do we have to prepare?" Azriel asked.

"Varian would never attend such a ridiculous thing," scoffed Amren.

"Is everyone invited?"

It was Kyla who asked from the end of the table. A quiet question that she seemed hesitant to pose. She was trying to look like she didn't care, but hope glimmered in her eyes. The chatter ceased as they looked at each other. Mor's stomach clenched as she dreaded having to tell Kyla she couldn't travel to Day with them. Tamlin was aware that a mortal lived in Velaris, but had no idea her connection to the Inner Circle. The wine would be flowing and Kyla would attract the attention of many fae, both male and female. The novelty of a mortal dressed up like a fae...Mor's worry about denying Kyla turned to anger. It made her blood boil to think about how some of those snobbish courtiers would take advantage of her lack of power, her weakness, her innocence. She didn't want Kyla to experience that; she wanted to keep her safe, because she was her friend, and because of Azriel.

Azriel. Mor looked over to her friend across the table. Azriel would have to watch as males ogled Kyla. He would have to control his temper and instinct to shield her from… everything. The strain would be felt on all of them as they ran interference to help him.

But Mor could see the interest in Kyla's eyes. She was both timid but keen. She had made a wonderful life here in Velaris, working as the court's alchemist. A title Rhys made up but fitted her skills appropriately. The children of Velaris worshipped her and even Amren enjoyed discussing and debating with her well into the night. It seemed Kyla was the only one bold enough to not be terrified of disagreeing with the tiny fae. But there was so much more outside of Velaris, and it was time they began to ask around outside of Night.

Mor looked to Rhys to see what he would say. It seemed he was consulting his mate silently, likely considering all the same factors. Rhys took a deep breath and looked down the table at Kyla. "Helion has invited the High Lord and High Lady of Night and their court. It will create quite a stir and you will face some prejudice, but you are part of this court. So if you'd like to join us, you're welcome to come."

The joy that spread across Kyla's face as she sat up straight and grinned was worth all the trouble they would face on this visit.


	32. To Day

**Chapter 32**

They winnowed to a cleared gravel area on the perimeter of an outer courtyard of Helion's residence in the Day Court. The area had been set outside of the wards that prevented anyone for winnowing directly into or out of the castle. There was no weapons check as it would have been just for show. Their magic was far deadlier. But the guard checked that the correct number as had replied to the message arrived and escorted them to their apartments.

The castle was elegant and complex, having been designed and rebuilt over the millennia. Twisting stairwells wound up to solitary towers and rooms built entirely of glass allowed for the full light of day to shine through. Spring was at its peak and magnolia trees and cherry blossoms floated on the breeze like snowflakes. Azriel watched Kyla twist and turn, trying to take in every sight at once. She didn't even try to hide the wonder in her face. While the rest of them practiced a cool aloofness they had mastered over the centuries, Kyla's face shone with wonder and delight. It made Azriel's heart melt and he wanted desperately to scoop her up and fly her around the castle so she could see it all at once.

"Did you know that several rooms have been replaced with walls of pure glass? It took the alchemist Balien DeNitor fifty-six years to combine the right minerals and magic to be able to support the roof above. Now you can see both the sunrise and sunset in the same place." Kyla's phenomenal memory was stirred as she recited what she had read about Helion's castle. She turned and walked backward as she pointed to the tower behind them. "And I read the stairwells were designed to confuse invading forces so they often lead to nowhere. In fact—" she slammed right into one of visiting Lord Thesan's personal guards.

The Peregryn didn't budge but Kyla bounced off of him like she had hit a wall. His hand snapped out and grabbed her arm before she could fall. Kyla stared up at him with wide eyes, not in fear, but in awe. He kept a firm grip on her arm as though he wasn't sure if she was part of the group or some trespasser.

"Are you a Seraphim? Like Nephelle in the story?" Kyla asked breathlessly. She looked at the Peregryn like he was her long lost hero. A character from her children's storybook come to life. Jealousy poured out of Azriel and before anyone could stop him he reached over and placed an equally firm grip on the Peregryn's forearm that was holding Kyla. The whole group froze at the stand off as Azriel and the Peregryn locked eyes.

Rhys casually placed Feyre's arm in the crook of his elbow and took up a position of relaxed calm. "Kyla, this is...?"

"Liam," the guard said tersely.

"Liam of Lord Thesan's personal guard. He is a Peregryn, who are closely related to the Seraphims." Kyla just nodded. Then she seemed to notice the tension between Azriel and Liam, and stuck her right hand out.

"I'm Kyla."

Surprise showed on the Peregryn's face and he was forced to release her arm in order to shake her hand. Azriel let go first, with great reluctance, then Liam reached forward and shook Kyla's hand. Cassian had a sudden tickle in his throat resulting in a coughing fit.

"My Lord Thesan wishes to meet with the High Lord and High Lady of Night at their earliest convenience. You and Helion have much to discuss in regards to..." he glanced warily to the entourage, unsure of how much to reveal. As much as Rhys enjoyed watching the pompous faery squirm, he allowed him to save face.

"Please tell Lord Thesan that we'll meet him as soon as we are settled and have greeted out host Lord Helion." Rhys made to move past but then thought of something. "Do you know if Nuan has joined him? I believe she and Kyla would have much to discuss."

Azriel felt smug satisfaction at Liam's discomfort. He glanced down at the human girl and then to Azriel who crossed his arms as if daring the Peregryn to insult her.

Liam cleared his throat awkwardly. "I will pass the message along," then spun and left them in the hall.

Before they were even moving again Kyla started pestering them with questions. Azriel scowled as he hung back.

Mor tried to comfort him. "She's just curious, not in love with him. Besides, I'm fairly certain he's not interested in associating with humans."

"That's what worries me," Azriel growled as they marched on.

* * *

The meetings dragged on for days. Though wards protected the castle from intruders, Azriel was still concerned about a human wandering the halls filled with a people who were unaccustomed to a mortal presence. He checked on her constantly though it was apparent it was unneeded. She had already won over many of the servants and the cook took special delight in introducing new dishes to her.

But really it was Nuan and Kyla who bonded instantly. The tinkerers holed up in the library, comparing notes, exchanging drawings, and working through theories. While the rest of the Inner Circle met with their counterparts from the other courts, Kyla seemed perfectly content to explore the castle and plot with Nuan.

However Azriel was still not comfortable discussing Kyla's full story with others. There were too many holes, too many unknowns. Someone with great power had put wards on the Cabin and he was still no closer to knowing who or why. But the Night Court had a mortal in their ranks, and the topic was unavoidable. They were enjoying dinner in their private dining room with Thesan, Kallias, Viviane, and their host Helion, when the questions started coming out.

"Kyla, my servants have told me you thoroughly enjoyed exploring the castle. In fact you seem to know more about some of its history than they do. How is it that you have come by this information?"

Kyla looked uncertain as she glanced at Rhys and Feyre before answering. She wasn't seeking their permission so much as trying to judge how much to reveal to this foreign lord. "It was described in detail in _The Great Castles of Prythian, 5th edition_. But that didn't include the east wing and reinforcements you've added to the perimetre." She looked to Azriel as if she was checking to see that this was the correct answer.

Helion smiled and gave her a funny look. "You've read this book and remembered my castle in particular?"

Kyla nodded and bit her lip. "And Lord Thesan's personal residence in the hills of Dawn. They are used as examples in the advancement of architecture that capitalise on the qualities of the power of their courts." Helion's eyebrows shot up and he looked to Thesan who sat a little straighter at the compliment. Kyla went on. "I suppose the same could said about the Hewn City, since it's built into the mountain and is almost always dark. Like...Night."

Rhys pretended to look offended while Kallias choked on a bite of food. But Mor started giggling and Viviane caught on. Soon the whole table was in a fit at Rhys' expense.

He sighed and conceded, "I suppose it could use some work."

But Helion was intrigued. "Where did you find this book?"

Kyla tried to keep the smile on her face but Azriel saw her breath catch. "It was just one of the books on the shelf..." she said evasively.

Viviane piped in. "And out of all of them you found reading about the history of Prythian's castles to be intriguing? How unusual!" she said with a smile looking at Mor for confirmation.

Kyla was less and less interested in participating in the conversation and she blushed while looking down at her plate.

"Did you have access to a great many books about Prythian in the mortal lands?" Kallias prodded.

Kyla shifted uncomfortably and looked up at Azriel with panic edging in. Azriel could hear her heart rate accelerating, but so could the other fae at the table. Azriel looked to Rhys. _Stop this_ , he pleaded mentally.

Kyla squirmed under Kallias' scrutiny. "Well I...they were just...that is...I didn't get to choose really..." She looked around frantically for the correct answer. They were allies but she didn't know how to play the games.

"We actually met Kyla because she was gathering herbs in the woods a fair distance from the battle of Diathre. Azriel was gravely wounded and had fallen down into the trees where we couldn't find him. It was through her ingenuity that she was able to nurse him back to health enough for him to come back to us. We owe her a great debt for her help," Rhys explained smoothly.

Kyla looked over to him with pure adoration. Azriel was torn between relief that she was spared explaining herself and embarrassment that his weakness had been brought to light.

Viviane looked at the mortal girl with admiration and Kallias smiled broadly. But Thesan was not so easily distracted.

"What was a mortal doing so close to the battle of Diathre?" he asked.

She looked Thesan square in the face. "That's what I would like to know."

* * *

"I have to say, Rhys, I've never heard of such a thing. Not even a whisper." Helion and Kallias were sitting with Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel in their private sitting room enjoying a nightcap following the supper. Thesan had made his excuses after dinner, returning to his apartments. The females had decided to walk in the gardens together and made it clear the males were not welcome. Viviane had asked for their company and Kyla had been invited as well. Azriel could tell she was torn between interest in what the males would discuss and her delight in being asked to join the walk. For once, Azriel wasn't nervous with their wanderings, knowing that three of the most powerful females in Prythian were with her.

"A mortal locked away in a cabin in the woods? It sounds like the beginning of children's bedtime story," Kallias added.

"Do you know about when this might have happened?" asked Helion.

Cassian huffed. "Well she's mortal so it can't have been that long ago. Perhaps during the time Under the Mountain?"

Azriel shook his head in frustration. "The spell was very carefully laid. She had no way of measuring time. The days and nights were random, sometimes lasting hours or weeks. The larder was never empty, the woodpile always full. Also, her injuries always healed. No matter how...severe. We wondered if perhaps Thesan had any insight, but we haven't brought it up. It would have to been a powerful brand of Dawn magic."

Helion cocked his head and looked at Azriel questioningly. "How severe?"

Azriel looked at Cassian and Rhys. "Mortal," was all he said.

Kallias was appalled and Helion watched Azriel clench and unclench his fists. There's more to this story, he thought.

"I know nothing. But I'll look into it, see what I can uncover. Discreetly," Helion added.

Azriel nodded his thanks and Cassian sighed before taking another drink.

"Well it seems you have scooped one of the cleverest mortals I've ever heard of. Perhaps it was fate that she had nothing to do there but have her every needed provided for so could read her books," Kallias said lightheartedly. He meant it as a way to soften the conversation but it was the wrong thing to say.

Shadows erupted from Azriel as Cassian and Rhys both leapt to their feet to block his path to Kallias.

"You don't get to judge her! It was not a vacation!" Azriel snarled at him.

Cassian grabbed his arm and forced him over to the window. "He didn't mean that, and you know it. If you're itching for a fight, brother, we can take this outside." Azriel just growled and turned to the window with arms crossed. He ignored the conversation continuing behind him.

Kallias was on his feet defensively. "I do not like to be told half-truths. If you want my help I want the whole story and there's more you're not sharing." Helion remained seated, casually observing Azriel's body language. It was Cassian who turned defensive.

"It's not needed," he spat out. Rhys put a hand on his shoulder and nodded. "It's none of their business," added Cassian. Helion raised his eyebrows in intrigue and Kallias crossed his arms, waiting impatiently for an explanation. Cassian and Azriel refused to speak, so Rhys stepped in.

"There was a High Fae male who found the Cabin. We don't know who he was. Is. Kyla never got a name." Rhys paused and looked at Azriel sympathetically. "He assaulted her. Regularly. And she was trapped there, unable to escape, available whenever he wanted." It was a simplified version of the torture Kyla had endured, but Rhys let Kallias and Helion fill in the details on their own. Out of the corner of his eye, Azriel saw Kallias take a seat and stare at the drink in his hands. But Helion was watching Azriel like a hawk. His eyes narrowed and he said nothing.

"Holy Cauldron of hell. That girl has been through...I'm sorry I pushed at dinner. I can't imagine..." was all Kallias could say.

Helion spoke gently. "You have no idea who?"

Rhys shook his head slightly and looked at Cassian and Azriel. "But that girl has won over even the darkest hearts in our court. If we ever find him, there will be fight over who gets to kill him first."

As the evening concluded Rhys walked with Helion to the door of their suite. He paused before stepping out.

"'Even the darkest hearts'?" Helion quoted. Rhys put his hand on the door warily. Helion looked past him to Azriel in sitting room. "He's in love with her, isn't he?"

Rhys pursed his lips. "Worse."

Helion swore under his breath. "Well there go my chances."

Rhys smiled wryly. "With her or him?"

Helion shrugged. "Either."


	33. The ball

**Chapter 33**

Kyla was jittery with excitement over the ball. It was just like in the fairytales she had poured over all her life. Mor had dragged her into their rooms and barred the males. She spent the next few hours trying on dresses and hairstyles with the Feyre, Mor, and Amren.

"There's only one thing I enjoy more than getting dressed up!" announced Mor.

"Lemon pound cake?" asked Feyre.

Mor paused and considered. "Alright, two things I enjoy more than getting dressed up. Lemon pound cake and kicking butt on the battlefield."

"You quite enjoy sleeping in too," Kyla pointed out.

"And watching Rhys torment your father," Amren chimed in.

Mor rolled her eyes. "So I enjoy many things. And one of them is wearing nice things." She pulled Kyla's red-brown hair back into an elaborate up-do of braids and twists. The weight of the pins alone pulled her head back. But the style elongated Kyla's neck and shoulders, strong and toned after months of training. Kohl had been added to her eyes and rouge to her lips, not so much to be heavy but enough to highlight her freckles and golden-brown eyes. Amren had even lent her some jewelry under penalty of death should she lose it.

"Kyla, just remember to stick to cocktails and avoid the faerie wine. I speak from experience when I say that the wine doesn't go well with the human disposition." Feyre cringed as she said this and shook herself as if to clear her body of the memory.

Kyla grinned. "Thanks for the tip." She looked back in the mirror and at Mor in the reflection. "Thank you as well, Mor, for helping me along. And other—well, just thank you. This trip has been so fun. And Nuan and I are planning on meeting again once we've built some prototypes. And I'm really looking forward to dancing, even if I don't know that I'll be any good. And I think the cook is preparing those crab cakes I suggested adding the fritisia spice to, and—"

"We get it!" Mor laughed. "You're excited! I am too. And I'm glad you've enjoyed yourself so much."

Amren came back into the room fully dressed. She wore her favourite ropes of black pearls draped over her deep grey silk dress that practically made her eyes shoot lightning. "I'll meet you three there. Varian and I were going to have a drink together before heading in."

Feyre grinned slyly. "Oh really, a drink? We'll look for you later on then."

Amren gave her a sharp look before heading to the door. Mor stepped back to admire her work on Kyla's hair. She wore a body hugging blood-red dress that only Mor could pull off. It plunged off her shoulders exposing her muscled back. A back that said both beauty and deadly at the same time. Feyre had chosen a long gown of black that sparkled like stars. It was stark contrast to her pale skin as the strapless dress coated her like night. Perfect for the High Lady of Night.

Kyla stood and looked in the mirror. Her dress was a liquid bronze that set her hair on fire. It was almost the reverse of Mor's plunging backline. Instead Kyla's dress sat high on her back and plunged down the front. It draped off her hips to fall straight to the floor. Mor hadn't said as much, but the dress was crafted in such a way to cover up scars on Kyla's back. Kyla breathed a sigh of relief when she put it on. It wasn't that she was ashamed; she just didn't want to talk about it on this party night.

The females wandered out of their dressing room and into the foyer of the apartment suites. As one, the waiting males turned and took in the females who strode in confidently. Rhys and Cassian let out low whistles at the sight of them but Azriel stood frozen on the spot. He only had eyes for Kyla. She blushed deeply under his gaze and then gave a small twirl. Cassian shoved Azriel hard in the ribs to break his concentration.

With a start Azriel blinked furiously and looked around, embarrassed to have been caught staring. He stepped forward awkwardly.

"You look wonderful," he said gently. He offered his arm to her and Kyla's eyes lit up as she smiled. She cocked her head and said coyly, "Thank you. Just like in the books." Azriel just smiled at that and followed the others out of the apartment.

* * *

When they arrived at the ballroom the party was in full swing. They tried to slip in but it was hard to go unnoticed in the entourage of the High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court. Though the music continued many guests stopped and stared at the group. Emotions ranging from jealousy and hatred, to fear and awe flowed through the crowd. Feyre just tilted her chin up and met their stares but Kyla stepped slightly behind Azriel, as if his wings and swirling shadows might deflect their stares.

Some tension was released when Viviane came up and embraced them each and Rhys shook hands warmly with Kallias. Across the room Thesan and his lover raised their glasses. As host, Helion came over to welcome them.

"I'm so happy that you were able to take the time to meet here at my home. I hope this party will be a fitting way to celebrate the many negotiations and agreements that have been brokered this week," Helion said formally. Rhys and Feyre simply nodded as Helion looked at each of them.

"Please help yourselves to food and drink at the tables and dancing and relaxing as you desire," he offered. "I hear the crab cakes are particularly delicious," he added with a wink to Kyla.

She grinned and made for the buffet. As she tasted the cake for herself she looked up to see a server peeking around the corner at her. She nodded her pleasure and the server fled the hall to report back to the cook. She took up a position along the wall and watched the dancing. Helion had invited nearly two hundred guests from across his realm and though many High Lords and ladies were present, Kyla was all too aware of how much she stood out in the sea of immortals. She caught glances and whispers in her direction and she schooled her features into that of polite indifference.

"Would you like to dance?" offered a voice behind her. It was Kallias, the High Lord of Winter, asking a mortal girl to dance. She looked around to be sure it was her he was talking to. She grimaced before answering, "I've never done this dance before."

The beautiful fae smiled pleasantly. "I'd be happy to teach you."

He led her onto the dance floor and found a spot to join in. In two rounds Kyla had picked up the exact steps and flew around the dance floor like a veteran. Feyre landed beside her, dancing with Tarquin from the Summer Court and they laughed as they bumped into each other. When the dance was finished Kyla staggered off the floor, giddy with energy. A server came by and offered her a tall glass of a shimmering beverage. She accepted politely and was about to take a sip when Mor casually strode over and pulled it from her hand.

"You'll want to avoid that one," she said as she switched it out for a glass of field wine. "You can try it out in the safety of home at another time." Mor kept the glass and downed it in one go.

"Oh, I didn't realise that was faerie wine!" Kyla said with horror. "Good save." She gladly accepted the regular field wine and gently sipped it while she rested her feet. The party was roaring now and most people had had too much to drink to pay much attention to her. Eventually Azriel made his way over to the females.

"I see that you enjoyed the dance, care for another?" he asked Kyla. Mor's eyebrows shot to the ceiling.

"You're going to dance?" Mor asked incredulously.

"What? I dance. I can dance. It's a thing, that I can do," he said nervously.

"Right, this I've got to see," she mused.

Kyla looked between Mor and Azriel and then stuck out her chin. "Come on Azriel, let's show her what we've got." She put down her glass and grabbed his hand to head for the dance floor. But Azriel suddenly pulled her back. He hesitated, looking nervous.

"We can figure it out," encouraged Kyla.

"It's not that. I know the dance. But you should know...it involves the male placing his hands on his partner's hips and lifting her through the circle."

Understanding dawned on Kyla as she turned to the dance floor to watch the partners in action. She would have to let a male touch her hips. She turned back to Azriel and asked cautiously, "Just you or do we switch?"

"Just your partner."

"Alright then." She took a deep breath. "Let's dance."

Azriel tucked his wings in tight to keep from knocking other dancers and they twisted and turned. The first time he reached for her hips Kyla flinched slightly. He stopped short and looked into her eyes for permission. After the briefest pause she nodded and he gripped her through the silky fabric and lifted her above his head. She let out a shriek of delight before he set her on her feet again and they continued around. She became more and more comfortable as the dance continued, her laughter and enthusiasm always contagious to those around her.

When the dance finished they wandered off the floor and found Mor and a female they didn't know on the sidelines. Azriel went over to get them drinks while Mor made the introductions. The female smiled shyly at Kyla as they were introduced, but Kyla didn't catch her name. Instead she felt hands around her waist lift her up and pull her back on the dance floor. She panicked at the touch of an unknown person and twisted away shouting, "Don't!" as she shoved the offending male off.

"Hey, what in the Cauldron? You didn't seem to have a problem with letting that disgusting animal have his way. Let me show you what a real male can do," he sneered. He reached over and pulled Kyla into him but she shoved him again and landed a kick right between his legs. The male bent over double but never hit the floor. Instead two guards of the Day Court appeared from nowhere and grabbed his shoulders, dragging him to the doors.

Kyla was shaking on the spot and Azriel was at her side in an instant.

"Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?" Azriel demanded.

But Mor stepped in. "Sorry, Oh Knight-in-Shining-Armor. Your damsel is not so much in distress. Her foe, however, is very much distressed." She clapped Kyla on the back and went off in search of the drinks Azriel had left behind.

"I'm fine. I was just...startled. And...uncomfortable." Kyla's voice shook a bit as she calmed her nerves. Then she looked up at Azriel and bit her lower lip with a smile. "Not as uncomfortable as he is though."

The evening progressed with music and dancing. Rhys and Feyre continued to mingle with visiting lords and ladies. Though they maintained a cool distance they were slowly chipping away at the Night Court's reputation of cruelty and wickedness. However Azriel's standoffish demeanor was never a ruse: he did not warm easily to strangers. His shadows picked up on all the whisperings in the corners of the room. He spent most of his time controlling the urge to explode the ballroom, strangling each male-and some females-who were making lewd comments regarding the females in his family. Amren, Feyre, Mor, and now Kyla didn't try to attract attention, but they seemed to draw in an audience with their radiant personalities. Stunning beauty didn't hurt either.

He surveyed the ballroom and noticed that Lord Beron had lowered himself to attending. They had spent the majority of the week here avoiding him and his hateful sons, though did end up trapped in several negotiations with them. Now Beron was sulking in the corner like he was never more disgusted than watching the rampant display of joviality before him. He practically wrinkled his nose when Kyla twirled by in a dance with Thesan.

But watching Kyla explode with joy had Azriel mesmerized. She was nervous talking with strangers but someone from the Night Court was always with her. He watched Amren deftly switch out another glass of faery wine that had been offered to Kyla, and relaxed a little as he saw how much his family was looking out for his mortal mate.

Kyla mingled and complimented when appropriate and the wait staff seemed to seek her out to try the latest dish they had prepared. She was proving to be quite the chameleon, able to blend in and adapt to her surroundings. She made jokes easily and Azriel thought of all the dire situations she had been in and laughed her way through. He realised that her sense of humour was what had gotten her through. Had gotten him through. And it was helping them both heal.

"Do you suppose if we stand close enough old Beron will actually vomit in disgust from our stench?" Cassian had wandered up and handed Azriel another drink.

"I think it's worth a try at least. Just so long as he gets it on Eris' shirt," Mor chimed in. "And who is that whispering in his ear anyway? He looks like he just lost a bar brawl. Badly."

Azriel huffed. "It's one of his loathsome sons. Ferrik. He replaced Lucien as least favoured and is particularly nasty as a result. Beron always finds excuses to send him away on trading missions or some useless venture."

"Somewhere far from healers it seems. That scar on his face is rotten," Cassian said offhandedly. Azriel's head snapped back. Scar on his face. A slash diagonally across, that hadn't healed properly.

Then he felt it. Kyla might not be aware of it but her emotion flooded over him. Fear, the deepest dread, shot down the bond. It overwhelmed him and he staggered back, looking around the room for her. Mor turned to him as she sensed his pain.

Cassian growled, "I feel it too. Where?"

The trio spun around looking for Kyla. Azriel noticed Rhys and Feyre straining their necks to see as well. Across the room he saw that Amren had one hand on Kyla's shoulder and was trying to get her attention. But Kyla was locked on the sight of Ferrik talking with Beron. She was frozen on the spot, gripping her glass with white knuckles. Amren seemed to get her attention but Kyla couldn't speak. She dropped the glass and fled the room before Azriel could reach her.

Rhys shouted at them mentally, _Be discreet. Split up and exit separately_. Azriel ignored the order but Cassian and Mor tried to look casual as they made for the door. Amren even gave Varian a seductive look and beckoned him to follow her. But once in the privacy of the hallway they broke into a run.

It didn't take long for them to catch a mortal running in high heels and a long dress. Azriel grabbed her shoulders and spun her around but Kyla let out a scream and a sob as she pushed him away.

"No, no! It's okay. It's okay," he tried to calm her down. She was gasping for air and shaking violently, pulling away from Azriel. A sob escaped her throat and he wanted desperately to pull her into his chest and protect her. Instead he crouched beside with one hand out as she cringed away from his touch. "We're all here, he won't get to you. I'm here."

The rest of the group caught up to them and found Kyla shaking on the floor, pushed up against the wall. But the more upset she became, the more Azriel's temper flared. He looked up at Rhys. "It's him."

Feyre's head spun between the two of them. "Him, who?"

Mor turned to run back to the ballroom with blood in her eyes, but Rhys grabbed her arm. "Not here. Let's get back to the apartment."

They hurried back to the suite trying to look like a merry bunch heading home after a good party. When the doors were closed and the shields in place, Cassian spun on Azriel. "What in the darkest Cauldron just happened?" he barked.

Amren was trying to get Kyla to drink some water but the mortal was practically catatonic in fear. Azriel wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and then pulled the others away.

"Ferrik is the male from the Cabin," Azriel said with a lowered voice. Cassian ran his hands through his hair and a vase nearby shattered as Feyre siphoned off some power. "She's had to look at his disgusting face enough to know every detail. Remember how the Cabin prevented fae healing? She gave him that scar."

"Oh I'm going to enjoy this," Amren said with deadly calm.

"I saw him first," growled Cassian.

But Rhys crossed his arms. "We cannot overtly attack the son of a High Lord. Even if we accuse him and bring him to trial, no court would take the word of a mortal over a High Fae."

"Rhysand, he raped her!" shrieked Mor. "He tormented that little soul until the strongest among us would have broken!"

"I'm not denying that!" spat Rhys. "I'm saying we don't have proof! Even if we did..."

"We've come a long way, but not that far," Varian finished for him.

"So we're just supposed to live with it? Knowing he's right there?" Azriel's power was flaring. Nothing would stop him from defending his mate, and no one would miss that male, not even Beron himself.

"Azriel," Feyre said calmly but with authority. "Azriel, look at me. You will follow orders. Go and sit with your mate. Take care of her now, as you will not be able to if you are executed for the murder of a High Lord's son."

Azriel crumpled under Feyre's gaze and he turned back to the couch where Kyla sat huddled. When he had gone, Rhys brought the group in closer.

"The party is still happening. As far we as we know Ferrik doesn't know that she's here. We need information." Rhys ordered with death in eyes.

* * *

"No! Absolutely not!" shouted Azriel.

"See. Told you he would never go for it," Cassian said.

"It's our best opportunity. Before anyone suspects," Rhys insisted.

"It will reset everything we've done. She'll never trust us again!" Azriel said vehemently. "You will not use her as bait. She's mortal! He could crush her before we even know they're gone!"

"But you said he doesn't want to kill her, he wants to take her for something," Mor insisted. "We'll be right there the whole time. All of us."

"We just need one false step in the ballroom, in front of Beron," Cassian added. "Then I will run him through on the spot."

Amren rolled her eyes. "That is not the plan."

"It's plan B," he answered simply.

"You want us to return to the party like nothing happened and lure that bastard even closer? Kyla couldn't even look at him from across the room!"

"She'll need to appear drunk on faery wine. Everyone will believe her a mortal that couldn't handle her drink. She goes with the first male who makes a move and we see if Ferrik follows. If not, the male is quickly removed from the scenario and we're no worse off."

"Except that she's traumatized!" Azriel shouted in a hoarse whisper.

"I'll do it," said a voice behind them. He spun around to see Kyla standing before him. Not exactly confident but not weeping either. Her chin trembled slightly but it jutted out. "I'm not weak. I'll do it."

"No! There's another way. We'll just wait until he's gone. Accident in the woods. You never need see him again!"

Kyla just looked past Azriel in stubborn resolution. "Mor, I'll need to fix my makeup. And...and...I'll need a real drink too." That brought a smile to Cassian's face as he geared up for revenge.

* * *

The group fanned out around the ballroom. The party was still in full swing but Ferrik was sulking in the corner, a sour look on his face. He still gave no indication that he had seen Kyla. She tried to walk past him, drop her scent, but her feet wouldn't work. Even though she had had plenty to drink already, Feyre sipped her own wine until the glass was empty then discreetly switched it with Kyla's to make it look like she finished it. They tried laughing and causing a raucous but Kyla's acting was not up to the task.

When Ferrik got up and left the room without noticing her, Kyla looked to Feyre apologetically. "I'm sorry. I thought I could do it, but I can't." She put down her empty glass and fled the room. Feyre made to follow but was held up by Beron himself.

"So Like-calls-to-Like after all. Seems you can't let go of your filthy human habits," he sneered. Feyre looked around the room for Rhys, but the males had left to follow Ferrik. Mor was looking nauseous in the corner, one hand on Varian's shoulder. Feyre looked down at Beron's hand on her arm.

"I'm surprised you lower yourself to touch me if I'm so disgusting," she drolled. Beron released her immediately and wiped his hand on his shirt, but Feyre was already walking away.

When she arrived in the restroom she found Kyla heaving into one of the toilets. She ran over and began rubbing her back. Kyla shook her off and moved away. "You shouldn't touch me. It's very strong."

Feyre gave her a puzzled look and offered her a hand up but Kyla wouldn't touch her. She clambered to her feet on her own and went to rinse her mouth out at the sink. Feyre didn't follow as her eyes glazed over. She began to sway and Kyla watched in horror as Feyre collapsed on the ground.

"Feyre?" Kyla gasped as she bent over. She smelled her breath and the faint odour of something sweet wafted out. Poison. Someone had poisoned her drink. The drink that was meant to be Kyla's. Feyre was trying to get up but couldn't focus or get her feet to work. Kyla's face blurred and she reached down the bond to call for help but no answer came. Feabane. There was faebane in the drink as well.

With panic in her eyes she looked to Kyla and saw a figure standing behind her. A hand reached around clamped down over Kyla's mouth as she instantly began to scream and struggle. The figure pulled her back and pinned her against his chest. Feyre watched in disgust as he ran his tongue along her collarbone and up her throat before whispering in her ear.

"Did you miss me?"


	34. Ferrik

**Chapter 34-Ferrik**

Panic overtook Kyla immediately. Any training she had received was forgotten in her terror. Her worst nightmare was coming true.

He kept his hand over her mouth, choking off her air. The other arm wrapped around her torso and pinned her arms to her sides. She twisted and kicked but he was still a male fae and she a human.

 _I will land two punches, I will land two punches, I will land two punches,_ she repeated in her mind. She pushed off of the walls of stairwell he was dragging her down. In his rage he spun her around and slammed her up against a mirror. Her skull cracked the glass and blood trickled down the back of her neck. Blackness overtook her for a moment as she went limp. She crumpled to the ground and Ferrik kicked her in the stomach.

"Get up! Get up, you witch!" He pulled her up by her hair and continued to drag her down the hallway. "I knew it! I knew you had power! I will be greatly rewarded when he finds out."

Kyla gasped for air clutching her side. She spun and dug an elbow into Ferrik's throat. _One_. He dropped her for a moment and she stumbled away. She took a deep breath to scream but he tackled her to the ground and punched her face before getting to his feet and kicking her again. She heard the rib break.

A gag of fire formed around her mouth and bound her hands. He pulled her up again and continued to drag her down the hall.

"Just need to get out of the wards, then I can bring my prize back to him," he ranted. "I will get what I deserve. You are nothing but my ticket. You crazy witch..." He wasn't even talking to Kyla, just ranting to himself. Kyla could smell the alcohol heavy on his breath and something else. There was something else that made his eyes bloodshot and pus seep from his scar.

She continued to fight but every movement was agony. Tears escaped her eyes and turned to steam as they hit the fire. Where was everyone? The trap was sprung, where had they gone?

Fireworks began to crack outside and she could hear shouts of joy from the pleased crowd. They were almost to the courtyard where the winnowing platform sat outside the wards. Ferrik glanced around to see if anyone was there, but the crowds had been pulled to the fireworks. Even the guards carelessly had their backs turned to watch the show. Sweat poured off Ferrik's brow and he jerked around all jittery, muttering to himself. Ferrik closed his eyes to rally his power and Kyla screamed through her bonds in a desperate final plea for help. But nothing happened.

Ferrik gasped and fell to one knee. He couldn't winnow. He grabbed Kyla by the neck and yanked her head back. "WHAT DID YOU DO?" he screamed in her face. He reached to his side and pulled out a knife as light exploded around them. Ferrik squeezed his eyes shut and twisted his face away as the fire bonds sputtered and fell off of Kyla's wrists and face. She scrambled away but he snatched her back and held the knife to her throat.

"You fucking witch! What have you done to me?!" he screamed again pressing the blade to her neck.

"Faebane. In my makeup," Kyla said through clenched teeth as his hand gripped her head. "Did you get a good taste?"

Ferrik roared in her face and drew the blade across her throat.

Kyla collapsed on the ground as the warm blood poured out of her. She looked down and thought it ironic that the red stained her bronze dress a colour very similar to her hair. She tried to take a breath but only blood came in.

She saw feet rushing towards her. A face in the distance. She reached out her hand for Azriel. He lunged for her but Cassian and Varian were holding him back. He was screaming on his knees.

"You can't touch her Azriel! The faebane!" a voice said.

She tried to speak but only moved her mouth as blood leaked out.

Then Thesan's face appeared before her, deep concern in his eyes. She tried to tell him not to touch her but he just held his hands above her face and a blinding light with deep warmth washed over her.

* * *

Everything was happening too fast, in slow motion. Chaos reigned. Thesan stopped the bleeding and closed the wound but the faebane on her skin kept reopening it. Helion was barking orders to the guards. Ferrik was captured easily and dragged away. Someone wrapped a cloak around Kyla, shielding them from the faebane. Thesan scooped her up and carried her to the apartment.

"Draw the bath! We have to rinse off the faebane first!"

Varian ran to the bathing room and filled the tub instantly with his water magic. Thesan placed Kyla in the water, turning it crimson with her blood. He pulled off the cloak but hesitated at her torn dress. Varian drained and filled the water again.

"Where are the females?" he barked.

"We don't have time for this!" Thesan snapped. "I can't touch her and risk the faebane."

Amren appeared at the doorway but took one look at the bath of blood and ran to the toilet to vomit. Amren who spent most of her life drinking blood as food was heaving her insides out. Varian leapt up and ran to her side.

"What is it? What's wrong?" he whispered as he held her hair back. Amren was convulsing and shivering violently. Varian looked up at Thesan pleadingly as Kallias and Viviane walked into the bathing room and took in the scene. Viviane ran to the tub and reached out to pull off Kyla's dress but Kallias held her back.

"Viv don't! The faebane!"

She pushed him off. "It'll pass. I'll take the brunt of it so Thesan can heal her. Or Feyre. Where is Feyre?" She started peeling off the blood soaked dress.

Thesan stood and went over to Amren who was curled into a ball on the floor. He placed one hand on her face and looked up at Varian with shock. "Poison."

"Get me some towels!" Viviane ordered from across the room. Kallias went to the cupboard and found some, bringing them back to the tub. Cassian was holding Azriel back at the door.

"Where's the Morrigan? And Feyre? They have healing powers, we need them here!" Kallias shouted at them.

Cassian's eyes went wide as he realised they had not appeared in the courtyard as planned. He grabbed Azriel's shoulders. "Focus, brother. Use the shadows: where are the females?" At this moment the door to the suite burst open with Rhys carrying a limp Feyre in his arms. Her dress was covered in vomit and her skin a pasty white. Rhys' eyes were wide with fury and concern. He passed Kallias on his way into the bathing room.

"Varian, fill the tub again!" Rhys begged. "It's poison!"

Kallias carried Kyla to the bedroom with Thesan holding his hands to her throat. "I need to stop the bleeding and restore the airway first. As long as Feyre's still breathing she's second in line," Thesan called over his shoulder.

Varian brought in the water instantly but didn't leave Amren's side. "What the _hell_ is going on?" he snarled.

Amren whimpered below him. "The drinks. We were taking Kyla's drinks and exchanging them for field wine. A server kept bringing her faery wine, so we would switch." Varian's head shot up and he looked from Rhys to Cassian and Azriel.

"Where's Mor?"

Cassian dragged Azriel from the apartment and out into the hallway. "Thesan is with Kyla, you can't do anything. But you can find Morrigan. Find her!" screamed Cassian, but it wasn't needed. At the end of the hallway a figure in a crimson dress staggered towards them clutching her abdomen. Both Cassian and Azriel lunged for her as she was mumbled incoherently and collapsed into them.

"I can't...I can't...He was there...but I…"

Cassian reassured her. "It's okay, it's okay. We're here." Azriel carried her back to the suite and burst in through the doors. He looked over and saw the bright light of Dawn coming from Kyla's room.

Azriel turned to Cassian. "Get the tinkerer, Kyla's friend. She'll know how to treat the poison." Cassian didn't hesitate as he fled the suite and passed Helion storming in.

"I've got Ferrik under guard and Beron threatening war." His eyes went wide as he took in Mor in Azriel's arms. Varian carried Amren out of the bathing room and across the foyer to a bedroom. Rhys appeared with Feyre wrapped in towels, shivering violently.

"All the females?" Helion asked, astonished.

Darkness was creeping into the rooms as Rhys' temper flared. "Something was slipped into their drinks. Rather, Kyla's drink that they switched out."

Helion spun and shouted at the guards to lock the palace down. Footsteps rang through the halls as soldiers issued commands. He turned back to the foyer but the males had all carried the sick females away. Kallias and Viviane exited Kyla's room.

"I need to find Liam," Viviane said over her shoulder as she skirted past Helion.

Helion looked to Kallias for and explanation.

"It was a mortal wound. It's taking Thesan a lot to close it and restore blood flow. He'll be very weak when he's done," was all Kallias said. Viviane had gone to find Thesan's partner for support.

Helion ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "Three of the most powerful females in Prythian were just poisoned by drinks made for a mortal. What if she drank them herself? If the poison affects the fae this much it would have killed Kyla instantly."

"Maybe they weren't intended for Kyla and Ferrik thought to incapacitate those who were chaperoning her?" Kallias mused. "Or he just kept trying."

"In my own home!" raged Helion. "There will be blood for this."

A soft knock at the door and Nuan appeared with a bag over her shoulder and Cassian at her side. She looked at the High Lords in their fury and seemed to balk.

"Nuan. Thank the Cauldron-" Azriel walked over to her.

"Is it Kyla? They're saying someone slit her throat. She's only mortal. There's so much blood in the hall…" Her eyes filled as she searched their faces and Azriel looked away, choking down a sob.

Cassian directed her. "Thesan is with Kyla. It's Feyre, Mor, and Amren that need you."

She nodded and followed him into the first room.

Helion walked up behind Azriel and growled through clenched teeth. "Come with me. I have need of a shadowsinger." They went hunting.


	35. Where were you?

Rain was pattering on the windowpanes. Rain on the Cabin roof. Her fire had died; she would have to relight it. Her throat felt swollen shut. She couldn't swallow. Had she filled the water pail? She could drink the rainwater if she didn't want to get to the stream. She wanted to keep her eyes shut and live in her dream forever. She didn't want to wake back to reality. She couldn't handle the loneliness of the Cabin anymore.

But the sheets around her felt too soft. She moved her fingers slightly. Behind the rain was the sound of muffled voices. A chair scraped back. She could smell tea. A set of strong but gentle hands gripped her face. She relaxed back into that feeling of warmth.

"No, no. Not that way. Come on back Kyla," said a voice. She was too tired. She didn't want to wake up. To be lonely. Another voice further away. "It's cute. Where did it come from?"

"Kiki, wake up now. Open your eyes." Kiki. That's what the school children called her. The children of Velaris. The voice was calling her Kiki now. It wasn't a dream. She wasn't back in the Cabin. She forced an eye open but it fell closed again.

"That's it, Kiki. Wake up now."

She forced both eyes open and tried to focus on the golden face before her. Lucien gave her a deep smile as she blinked to clear her eyes. Not Lucien, Helion. Helion was holding her face, calling her to consciousness. _He looks like Lucien._ She tried to say as much. Her lips opened but her tongue was too big. There was sand in her mouth.

"Easy. No talking until that throat heals up," Helion said. Someone handed him a cup and he placed an ice chip in her mouth.

The ice brought relief to Kyla's dry mouth and she clumsily reached for the cup.

"Alright, alright. But take it slow," Helion chuckled. He looked behind him. "We should let them know."

Kyla heard someone speak outside. "She's awake."

Cassian said something. Varian answered. Where was Azriel? She tried to move her head, to sit up, but Helion held her firmly.

"Thesan worked hard to put your neck back together. The muscles will need to be strengthened again, so don't go undoing all his work. Besides, we ran out of clean sheets." She gave him a funny look. "What? You're the only one allowed to make dark jokes?" She tried to smile but her eyes were too heavy. Cassian appeared at the door. Nervously he approached the bed.

"Hey there, Kiki." Cassian huffed lightly. "Azriel said that's what the children call you. It's kind of catchy." He swallowed and looked to Helion. "Azriel's sleeping or he'd be here. Rhys put him under because he was driving us mad. Great in a fight; not so great at waiting."

Helion gave her another ice chip.

"Mor and Amren are fine. Furious, but fine. They're resting as well. Feyre is a little worse off because of that last drink she downed, but Rhys is with her and she'll pull through."

Kyla didn't understand. She furrowed her brow and tried to speak again but only a croak came out. She swallowed but couldn't clear it. Mor and Amren? What had happened? What drinks? Then she remembered Feyre collapsing in the washroom. She remembered the smell on her breath. Kyla squeezed her eyes shut as a tear escaped.

"Hey now, it's fine. Everything's fine." Cassian reached for hand.

Kyla couldn't open her eyes again. They were too heavy. Her eyelids burned.

"Kiki? Kyla?" Cassian's concerned voice grew distant.

Helion answered. "She's sleeping again. It's good."

* * *

Azriel closed the door carefully behind him. Kyla was in a deep sleep. Though he didn't want her to wake alone, they had things that needed to be discussed.

Mor was curled up on the couch under a thick blanket, even though the late spring rain was hardly cold. Amren too had a blanket over her lap as she lay her head back in a rocking chair. Rhys carried Feyre into the sitting room also wrapped in blanket, her protesting the whole way that she could walk perfectly fine. Cassian lounged in a chair with his feet up on the table, awkwardly cramming his wings against the cushions.

"If I never have another drink again, it'll be too soon," Mor said under her breath. It had taken the whole day for the fae females to purge the poison from their systems. They were still shaky and taking only light food.

Rhys tucked Feyre into a big armchair and handed her a cup of tea.

"Where is he now?" asked Mor.

"Two steps away from hell," answered Cassian. "Helion's darkest dungeon. I still think it's a waste of air."

Rhys nodded in agreement. "But we need to deal with pleasant High Lord of Autumn too. His guilt is irrefutable, but Beron is a prick."

"He really didn't know anything?" Feyre asked.

Azriel shook his head. "No clue. He's just trying to save face. Two sons have betrayed him now. He doesn't even know about the third one."

"And the servant who poisoned us? Why would he betray Helion?" Amren glowered.

It hadn't taken long for Azriel's shadows to suss out the traitor. He was glad to have a mission while Thesan worked on Kyla. While four of his friends, his family, lay unconscious. Helion had seen his anguish, his rage, and channeled that into finding the culprit. They picked up the server trying to flee the servant's entrance, disguised as a wine merchant making a delivery.

"Poor vetting by Helion's staff. They hired extra workers for the party and this one slipped through. He had been bribed by Ferrik to put poison into Kyla's drinks. Seems he wasn't pleased that a mortal was enjoying a party with Prythian royalty while he had to wait on her. But other than wanting to make an easier mark, he knew nothing about Kyla." Azriel looked to the closed bedroom door. "She should never have left Velaris. The rest of the world isn't ready for humans to be more than slaves."

Rhys put a hand on Azriel's shoulder but didn't argue the point.

"But if those drinks made us that sick...there's no way a mortal would have survived," Mor pointed out.

Cassian nodded. "He wasn't the brightest star in the sky. He had no idea what a human constitution could handle. However, it's likely she would have been so sick from the first sip that she wouldn't have had as much as you lushes did."

"Hey! We were helping! And...enjoying the party," Mor said defensively. Cassian just grinned at her as she slapped his arm weakly. "The faebane made it worse."

"So Ferrik knew she was here the whole time? He played us," Amren stated.

Rhys shrugged. "It wasn't a secret. She roamed the castle with Nuan, met with the High Lords. The servants knew her well. She stood out."

"But why? What does Ferrik know?" Feyre asked Rhys pointedly. She knew he had been in his mind, seen what he's seen. _Show me_.

 _No. Never. I saw what he did. I saw her pain, why she prayed for death. I will never show you that,_ was Rhys' answer. But a small scream, one image flashed, escaping from Rhys' shields.

Feyre looked away, a hand over her mouth.

Rhys sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Ferrik's mind is a disaster. He's addicted to...something. A drug? It jumbled everything up. I couldn't tell what was memory and what was fantasy. He was sent to the Cabin to retrieve her but the wards were too strong. He was punished for his failure and ordered to find a way. The drug was used to control him. It made him obsessive. And paranoid. He...he blamed Kyla for his failures and thought to beat her into submission. The assault...that was just his derangement. A way to take the edge off."

The shadows were seeping off of Azriel's back as his jaw clenched and his breath quickened. His blood was boiling. He had been with Rhys when they interrogated Ferrik and it had taken only the most direct orders from Rhys to not run him through. That and his promise to Kyla that he would find answers.

His seething was interrupted by Mor. "Sent by whom?" He couldn't remember what they had been talking about. "You said Ferrik was sent to retrieve her. Who sent him?"

"A certain 'sorcerer lord' that collects women and puts them under curses." Rhys looked at the group expectantly. Their memories flared. Vassa, the firebird queen who had helped in the battle against Hybern. She was cursed by a sorcerer lord to be a firebird by day, woman at night. In her misty visions Elain said there were others too, all kept by a deep lake on the continent.

Realisation dawned on the group. Mor leapt to her feet too fast and swayed dangerously. Cassian reached up to grab her and set her down on the sofa before she fell. Feyre's jaw was on the floor. Amren just closed her eyes and laid her head back.

"So Kyla was locked away in the Cabin by this sorcerer lord? Whom, incidentally, I'm getting a little tired of hearing about," Amren said with her eyes closed.

Rhys shook his head. "This is where it gets jumbled. Ferrik's mind is shredded, either on purpose to hide his identity, or from the drug abuse. But if the sorcerer had put her there, you would think he would be able to retrieve her. Which leads me to believe that someone else hid her there, and put the wards in place to prevent her from leaving."

"So she must be important?" Cassian pointed out. Mor sent him a withering look. "I mean, of course she's important! To us! She's very important to us! But I mean...to someone else."

"A queen, perhaps? Maybe the queens locked her away there just like they sold out Vassa. Again, more people I'm getting tired of talking about and not doing anything about," Amren added.

A wry smile crept to Feyre face. "Queen Kiki? Oh Cauldron, I hope that's the case." She giggled and Mor snorted. Even Cassian grinned at the thought of their little alchemist ruling a nation.

Rhys just walked to the chair where Feyre was curled up and perched on the arm. "A queen whose memory was erased? Or locked away behind those...vines. But this sorcerer knew she was out there, just not where to look." He paused and looked at Azriel like he was dreading what he had to say next. Azriel narrowed his eyes, already angry that Rhys had kept something from him.

"Ferrik had been looking for Kyla since the Aegian wars."

Everyone froze. Everyone except Feyre who glanced around the room, looking for an explanation. She was about to speak but a strangled cry escaped Azriel's lips. Not rage, but despair seeped out from him. Mor rose and shakily knelt before him. She lifted his face and tried to pull that deep sorrow from him.

"You cannot go back. You can only help her move forward," Mor said sternly into her face.

Feyre put a hand gently on Rhys' leg, searching for an explanation. "The Aegian wars were two hundred years ago," he said quietly.

Feyre stared at him in horror. Kyla had been trapped at the Cabin for at least two centuries. Alone. Maybe more, that's just when Ferrik had started looking. She looked back at Rhys sharply and he saw the question in her eyes.

"No. He only found it relatively recently. Ironically, I imagine our worst period was her happiest. Ferrik was trapped Under the Mountain with us for fifty years. She had fifty years of peace." Then Ferrik had been freed from Under the Mountain by Feyre.

"Is she immortal?" whispered Azriel from his chair. Was it hope in his eyes? Grief?

Rhys just shook his head sadly. "I have no idea."

* * *

Azriel felt her nightmare through the bond. Just a glimmer, a flash of an image. He woke with a start, not even sure where the feeling of dread was coming from. He threw the covers off and raced across the suite. At her door he paused, listening for her raspy breathing inside. Nothing.

He cracked the door open slightly and saw that her bed was empty. Panic flashed through him. He pushed it open wider and saw that she was standing by the window watching the storm outside, a blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders. He crossed the room silently and gently placed a hand on her back.

She flinched at his touch and drew away.

Those months of healing were gone. Ferrik had come for his prize, her worst nightmare come true. And Azriel had, once again, not been there to protect her. She had to save herself by mixing faebane in her own makeup. She had learned to count on no one to come to her rescue. Those cracks had reopened, her fear at the surface.

But instead of a joke or sudden topic change, she looked at him with pleading eyes. Eyes that were tired of being strong, tired of laughing it off.

"Where were you?"


	36. Blame

**Chapter 36-Blame**

Kyla lay back in the tub, staring off into space. Her mind was switched off, thinking of nothing at all. She could hear Nuala or Cerridwen outside in her room, changing sheets, collecting dishes, or doing whatever they thought needed doing. They had been anxious to get in there and but Kyla wouldn't leave. She couldn't move.

They had left the Day Court subtly and quickly, as soon as her broken body could handle the winnow. Helion personally escorted them to the platform, a mixture of concern and fury on his face. She tried to give him a smile of thanks for looking after her but all she could see was blood on the gravel. It had long since been cleaned up, but she could still see it everywhere. She leaned heavily on Azriel, finding comfort in the closeness instead of fear, and he gripped her tightly as they winnowed back to Velaris.

She went straight to bed and stayed there, barely acknowledging anyone or anything for three days before finally mustering the energy to rise and take care of herself. _No one else will._

A soft knock at the bathing room door brought her mind back to the present. It was Cerridwen asking if she needed anything. _She probably already knows the answer,_ Kyla thought with annoyance. They were just asking to check up on her. _Wraiths._

"No. Thank you," Kyla said simply.

The knock came again and the handle on the door starting turning. They hadn't heard her.

"Thank you! No!" Kyla said with more force. It was all her voice could handle, barely more than a harsh whisper.

The handle was released and footsteps moved away from the door. Kyla exhaled deeply and sank lower in the tub, forcing her toes up out of the water at the other end. Even her toes were damaged. The nail on her big toe was blue; old injury from sparring practice. A poorly placed kick.

Her gaze moved up her legs noting the various scars, some she could identify and some were mysterious injuries beyond her memory. Her knees had small scabs from where she had fallen to the gravel. Theron could have easily fixed them, but he had bigger problems to address at the time. Probably didn't even know her knees where scraped.

Kyla's eyes moved up to her hips. Where she had let Azriel put his hands in the dance. Just Azriel, no one else. There was another. A male from Day had grabbed her hips and tried to force her to dance. She kicked him between his legs. Normally that would have brought a smile to her face, a small victory. She was happy at the time, proud of herself. Now she was just numb.

A deep, dark bruise covered her chest. Her ribs had been broken and healed more times than she could count. _Are they permanently damaged_ , she wondered. _Perhaps they break more easily now?_ It wasn't normal for a twenty-five year old girl to have her ribs broken that many times. But what did she know? She had no idea what was normal for humans.

She brought her hands up, rinsing the water over her shoulders and held one up to the light. Steam rose from her hand as the hot water met the cooler air, like her skin was on fire. The bath was almost unbearably hot. She wanted it that way. She wanted to burn the feel of him off of her. Steam rose in the air and twirled as she waved her hand around. She blew across her palm softly like she was blowing a spell away, and could see it leave her body in the tendrils of smoke.

Her other hand traced a line up between her breasts and rested on her throat. Her throat that had been slashed. He had opened it up with the slice of his knife and her life's blood poured out on the gravel of that courtyard. The hot water trickling down her neck felt like that warm blood again, running down her shoulders and across her front. Now only a faint scar remained, Thesan having pulled the flesh together and saved her life.

A miracle.

But not really.

It was the healing power of Dawn that had saved her. Who knows if Rhys or Feyre had enough of that power to do the same. It was lucky that Thesan had been there.

Lucky?

Was she lucky that when her worst nightmare came to life, a High Lord had been there to put the pieces back together?

She didn't feel lucky. She felt broken. Defeated. Sad.

The water had grown cold but Kyla remained letting her hair float on the surface. It was longer again. Not as long as it had been but had grown past her shoulders over these winter months in the Night Court. _How long,_ she wondered.

She and Azriel had arrived in late summer. Cool nights, but warm days. The first frost had come by the time she was able to leave the house and explore Velaris that first time.

Leave the house.

She needed to leave the house again. And go…where? _Where am I going?_

 _East._ She had been going east when Ragre and his gang had found them. Azriel had ended the attack quickly but Kyla didn't stay to watch, and fled east. Right off the edge of the mountain, and Azriel had caught her. Had she been looking east when she fell from the House of Wind? No, the sun was setting across the bay. But she was facing away from it, which is why she did slipped off the edge. Facing east, looking at Azriel. Angry with him for expecting her trust based on scraps of information. For assuming that she wouldn't think for herself.

She had shouted at him. He was just trying to help and she yelled at him for it. And still he caught her. He asked her to return to the cabin at the training camp. He didn't make her, he asked her, and she ignored him and barreled east, and he caught her anyway. He didn't want her to be the bait to trap Ferrik either. He pleaded with them to find another way but they all reassured her that it was safe. She would be safe in their company.

But they were wrong.

They were arrogant, foolish. And drunk. It was a sloppy plan to begin with. What did they think was going to happen? That Ferrik was going to attack her right there in the ballroom in front of everyone? So stupid. All their backups had failed. Feyre alone could have destroyed Ferrik in the blink of an eye but she was unconscious. Morrigan and Amren poisoned. The males fell into their own trap, following their thirst for blood and the glamoured server out of the ballroom thinking it was Ferrik. While the real Ferrik easily collected Kyla in the bathing room.

So easy. All that training for nothing. One male, drugged and weak, had still beaten her. She hadn't even brought her ash dagger with her. It was designed to fit under her dress, expressly for this purpose. Why didn't she have her own backup plan? Why did she expect the faeries to save her? Enoch was likely cursing at her stupid mortal ways from the afterlife.

Enoch. Eskrie. _I didn't save you then only to have you die now._

They died saving her and she almost threw it away with a careless plan.

 _Get up. Run._

That's what they had said. Run where? She was sick of running. That's why she volunteered to face Ferrik. So she wouldn't have to run anymore. But it hadn't fixed anything. She was no further than when she started, just with more scars and no story behind them.

 _Get up._

She did.

* * *

Rhys was in his study, the early summer sunshine streaming in the open windows, a light breeze carrying the scent of fresh flowers and tilled soil in the room. His desk was covered in papers. Lists, inventories, reports, requests, suggestions, demands. He tried to focus on them but he was really listening to the house. Footsteps sounded upstairs. Nuala and Cerridwen went about their tasks. Everyone else was out, doing what needed to be done. Everyone but Kyla, who hadn't left her room since they returned from Day.

But now he could hear her descend the stairs, slowly but steadily. Rhys started to rise to meet her in the foyer but heard the steps coming toward him, so instead flicked his wrist and a tea service appeared on his desk, and he poured two cups. As predicted, Kyla shyly peered in from the hallway, glancing around to see if he was there. He smiled up at her and gestured to the tea service and chairs by the open window looking out over the patio.

Kyla tried to give him a small smile but it didn't reach her eyes. He waited for a witty remark, a joke about sleeping for so long, or about him anticipating her arrival. But instead she looked out the window across Velaris, nodded her thanks at the cup of tea he placed in her hands, and sipped silently. Rhys sat with her for a time, a comfortable silence between them.

"Madja will be by later today to do a thorough check up. She came earlier but said rest was likely the most important thing, so left you sleeping."

Kyla nodded lightly and sipped again, inhaling the sweet scent of the tea. When she opened her eyes, she blinked away her thoughts and looked over to Rhys.

"I'm ready. Tell me," she said simply. Her voice was barely more than a whisper. She didn't have to elaborate, Rhys knew what was she was looking for.

He clenched his jaw, looking out the window and away from her intense stare. He had been trying for three days to figure out how he was going to tell her what he learned from Ferrik, and in what order. And how much. It pained him to think it but he debated holding back, to protect her. Not protect her from danger, but protect her from knowledge. _Some secrets are kept for a reason,_ Mor had said that day on the beach. Ferrik hadn't really given them any answers, and that almost made it worse. All that Kyla had been through was really just his derangement and sick personality. She would be left with more questions than explanations. Did she need to know she was a two hundred year-old human? How would that help?

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

"I'm sure you saw this, little escapes your notice, but he was addicted to a drug that made him…" Insane? Evil? Sick? "…that way."

"Why?"

"It was hard for me to tell; his mind was shredded. There's a sorcerer across the sea who had hired Ferrik to find you. Hired, blackmailed, bribed…I can't be sure. But he used Ferrik's addiction to control him, and Ferrik became obsessed with breaking the spell on the Cabin. You were 'the prize' and he was looking forward to his rewards."

Kyla shook her head slowly but didn't look at Rhys. She just continued to stare out the window, clutching her cup of tea to her chest.

"Why?"

"We know little of this sorcerer, but we've heard of him before. Queen Vassa is cursed by him in the mortal lands. She was sold out by the other queens before the war with Hybern, but we haven't been able to help her. Elain saw in a vision that there were others trapped too. Seems the sorcerer collects them for his own, and Ferrik was to bring you to add to it."

"But...why?" Kyla breathed.

Rhys' chest felt heavy. Why did this happen to her? What was she doing there in the first place? Kyla desperately wanted answers and Rhys had none to give. He shook his head sadly.

"So the sorcerer knows who I am. He wanted me for…something," she concluded.

Rhys shrugged. "I don't know that he cursed the Cabin though. You would think that if he had placed the spell to begin with he would have given Ferrik the tools to break it. But it's like he knew about the Cabin and the curse, and made it Ferrik's problem to figure out."

Kyla just nodded sadly and her eyes darted around like she was weighing the theories in her mind, or trying to sort through the memories. She didn't swear, or cry, or scream and shout. Rhys would have almost preferred that display of emotion. Instead she was cold and her eyes looked so tired. Two hundred years of torture, tired.

"Where is he now?"

"Azriel has already started looking, sending word to his spies everywhere."

Kyla's face blanched and her hand started shaking. Her eyes went wide and she looked at Rhys with pure terror flooding her body. Rhys sat up straight and looked out the window for the threat but then realised his mistake.

"The sorcerer! Not Ferrik! Azriel is looking for the sorcerer," Rhys clarified. "Ferrik is in the Day Court dungeon. Helion has him under constant guard." Rhys leaned forward in his chair and reached out to put a reassuring hand on Kyla's knee but she subtly shifted away. Rhys tried to cover his mistake up by pouring more tea in his cup. "He's locked up. He can't get you anymore."

Kyla winced and looked away as her breathing returned to normal. But her face was pinched and tears filled her eyes. She swallowed hard and shook her head but looked like she was just trying to keep from crying and couldn't speak.

"Hey, it's okay," Rhys reassured her. "We're all here for you. Azriel, Cassian, Mor, Feyre, even Lucien and Amren, they are all here and will keep you safe."

"Please stop saying that," Kyla whispered down to her tea.

Rhys frowned. "But it's true. You're a member of this court and a very dear to us. We want to help."

"But you can't. And then I…I trusted. I should have trusted…Azriel," she breathed as a silent tear fell down her cheek.

Rhys leaned forward again and tried to get her to look at him. "You can't blame Azriel. He lo—he wants so desperately to help you. He cares about you very much."

Kyla sniffed and sat up straight. She looked outside again and said, "I don't blame Azriel." She turned a cold stare on Rhys and spoke with a steady voice. "I blame you."

Rhys' eyes went wide in surprise. He met her stare silently, uncomfortably.

"You and Feyre and Mor and Cassian." Kyla's breathing was ragged but she held the High Lord's eyes as her anger spilled over. "I blame you for using me as bait. For your arrogance in thinking you could catch Ferrik in a trap. For convincing me I was more than I am. I blame Feyre and Mor for letting me think I was strong; that I could be like them. I can never be like them! And I blame Cassian for giving me tools, giving me confidence. False hope that I could actually do something against a faerie. Instead my throat was cut!"

If she had more voice, she would have been shouting. Instead her words were raspy and pained, like Rhys could hear the consequences of their actions in the tone of her voice. He searched for something to say, some way of defending his family, but it was hard to argue against her. They had done all those things. They promised to protect her in the city, that first day they explored Velaris, and they lost her. They offered to help her live again, and then accused her being a spy. They brought her on a vacation and she nearly drowned. They took her to the war camp and she was attacked. Twice. And then they went to a party and her worst nightmare came true.

"And I blame myself," Kyla finished. "Azriel is the only one who got it right. He didn't want me to go, he didn't want to set the trap. But I had this confidence, this cockiness, that I could do anything I set my mind to. I am so naïve! What was I thinking? That a mortal could just join the faerie world and everything would work out? That people would just accept me like there was no real difference between us? How could I be so ignorant?"

Rhys stared at her, open mouthed. But her face conveyed more pain than anger now. Like she was sad that things hadn't worked out like she hoped and frustrated with her own foolishness.

"Kyla I…I'm so sorry we failed you."

She deflated at that. She collapsed back in the chair and put her face in her hand, rubbing the tears out of her eyes. "You didn't fail me. I failed myself. I stopped thinking for myself and let others make the decisions for me. I got so comfortable here that I pushed all my problems aside and pretended like they weren't there, then blamed others for not solving them for me."

She stood suddenly and paused like she was going to add more. "I'm sorry too," was all she said before she left the room and walked out of the house.


	37. The Fox and the Fae

**Chapter 37-The Fox & the Fae**

Azriel leaned in close to the sailor to ensure he was the only one who heard. The merchant vessel was headed for the mortal lands, and Azriel was looking for information. The sailor wasn't from Velaris, he didn't know who Kyla was. The other citizens of Velaris however, they didn't need to hear Kyla's horror story. And yet word had spread that something was wrong. Maybe it was that healer who was apprenticing under Madja–he took a little too much pride in treating the injuries of the Inner Circle–or it could have been as simple as a delivery person overhearing a conversation between Nuala and Cerridwen. But Azriel didn't doubt any one of them could have given it away. Cassian was on a rampage, Mor was short and curt with the merchant councils, and Amren more sour than usual.

But it was most likely that Kyla had missed the school play. The children had been so excited to put the play together and were crushed when she wasn't well enough to attend. Kyla would have moved the Cauldron itself to be there, and they knew it. It was the story of Nephelle flying through the sea, Kyla's favourite. The entire Inner Circle had attended to make it up to them and Feyre explained that Kyla wasn't well, and the inquiries into the mortal's health hadn't stopped since. Even now Azriel had another card in his pocket and held a bouquet of fresh flowers to pass along. Standing on the dock with the bouquet in his hand made it look like he was asking the sailor out on a date, rather than activating a spy network.

He put one foot up on a crate that rested on the dock and was about to give the sailor one last instruction, when he noticed a young faery clutching her mother's hand and waving to him frantically. Azriel furrowed his brow and waved back automatically before he realized she wasn't waving to him, but to someone behind him. He spun around and saw Kyla leaning on the railing above the dock and returning the wave softly. She tried for a smile but it looked more like a wince. Then she glanced down at Azriel and held his eyes while he took in the sight of his mate in the summer sun.

She wore short pants and flats, enjoying the freedom without boots, and had a light jacket on over her sleeveless top. She gave the appearance of being out for a relaxed summer walk, her hair moving in the breeze off the Sidra and her face slightly tilted back to catch the sun. But the scar on her neck stood out like a beacon to Azriel, even though you could barely see it. And her eyes didn't match her smile. Her eyes were tired and lost.

Azriel sent the sailor away and winnowed straight to her side. For what felt like the first time ever, she didn't step back or jump when he arrived. She just turned to face him, still leaning on the railing, and gave him a truly warm smile as he approached. His knees almost buckled at that smile. He had let her down in the worst way possible, and yet she stood before him smiling. Not cursing or screaming, or worse, never speaking to him again. Smiling.

Then she bit her lower lip and those sad eyes were gone for a moment. "Did he spout poetry when he gave those to you, or break into song?"

Azriel stopped short and looked at her questioningly. "What?"

"The flowers. It must have taken a lot of guts for that sailor to finally express his feelings for you. You can be a bit intimidating."

Azriel gaped down at the bouquet in his hand, at a loss for words. "No! These are for you!" He thrust them towards her crudely like they were causing an allergic reaction.

Kyla blinked rapidly and accepted the flowers. "You shouldn't have."

"Shouldn't have what? Oh, the flowers, they're not from me. They're from someone else." Azriel awkwardly crammed his now free hands in his pockets.

Kyla nodded slowly and looked from the flowers back up to him. "A secret admirer?" she tried joking one last time.

"Who? What? No. They're from…" he dug around in his pockets and pulled out a somewhat crumpled card. "They're from Elise. And she drew you this picture." Azriel handed over the card and stepped back again while Kyla gazed down at it, all joking gone.

"She gave me flowers and a 'Get Well' card? I don't understand. How did they know?" she said softly.

Azriel cringed slightly. "The people of Velaris are surprisingly observant about what happens at the townhouse, and the moods and behaviours of the people who live there. And maybe a little protective. Plus, you missed the play."

Kyla nodded down to the card and clutched the flowers to her chest. "I'll have to make it up to them somehow," she said sadly.

Azriel took a tentative step forward. "They understand." He dared reach out and place a hand on her arm in reassurance, and again Kyla didn't flinch or pull away. In fact she leaned into his hand a bit. A bit too much. She swayed a little and Azriel tighten his grip slightly.

"You're dizzy," he said with concern.

"Yep," she said matter-of-fact. "I've been eyeing up that bench over there but the only thing holding me up right now is this railing."

Azriel moved in closer but caught himself in time. "Do you…would you like me to help you over?" He couldn't quite read the expression in her eyes at that request. Was it gratitude? Trust? Worry? She nodded wearily and let go of the railing as she pressed her weight into him and they made their way across the boardwalk to a bench overlooking the Sidra.

Kyla sighed and closed her eyes for a moment to let the dizziness pass and took a deep breath. "I don't think I've had enough to eat. I kind of…stormed out of the house."

Azriel cocked his head and waited for her to go on.

She blushed and looked away in embarrassment. "I said some things to Rhys that…were unkind." She rubbed her eyes viciously and sighed. "I…uhh…I don't know. I can't process." She leaned forward and stared down at the flowers in her hands.

Azriel remained silent, watching his mate closely, searching his own mind for the correct response. There was more that he needed to tell her but she looked overwhelmed enough as it was. Now that she was free of Ferrik, would she be more comfortable around him? Could he possibly tell her what was really going on?

But Kyla ripped him from that thought with her next question. "What will happen to…him?" She couldn't say it. Couldn't give the monster a name, make him a person. She looked up, searching Azriel's face for an answer.

Azriel could barely contain his rage. He stood suddenly and stepped up to the railing on the boardwalk, gripping it with both hands while his Siphons burned. He glared out across the river and tried desperately to calm his breathing, but could only speak through clenched teeth.

"Beron is demanding a trial. He claims his son was under a curse and it's not his fault. The drug made Ferrik's mind so unclear, it was hard for Rhys to pull fact from fantasy." Azriel couldn't face Kyla. He couldn't handle the horror that was flooding across the bond as she realised that Ferrik might go free. He could sense the terror she felt with the knowledge that a monster was still out there.

"Kyla if they let him go, he'll never get to Autumn. I'm going to kill him. I'm going to end it so he can never see you again, so you never have to look over your shoulder and wonder if he'll appear." He said it with such menace that Kyla froze in her seat, her eyes locked on to the killer before her.

She wetted her lips and swallowed, never taking her eyes off his back. "I believe you." She rose smoothly, her muscles steady again. "And I'm sorry I didn't before. I should have listened and been more careful. You've always been truthful but I couldn't let go of that fear." She reached out pulled on his shoulder so he was facing her again. She stood before him, hands at her sides, looking right into his eyes with that honest and open stare. Even without the bond he would have been able to tell what she was thinking; her every emotion was written on her face.

"But I haven't," Azriel started. "I haven't been honest. There's more I need to tell you—"

"KIKI!" a voice cried out behind him as Kyla's eyes went wide in surprise and mass of wings and colour slammed into her.

Kyla's arms flew up as she clutched the young faery to her chest in an embrace. She tried to smile but Azriel just saw pain in her eyes. Sharp, blinding pain flew down bond. She staggered back, and Azriel reached out to grab them both before they hit the ground.

"Kiki I'm so glad you're back! Feyre said you were sick and then Bibi said Madja was at the house but then Jurt said that Mia said that you were at the docks and I wanted to tell you that I built a clock and that—" Azriel finally pulled the child off of Kyla's chest as the mortal gasped for air. "What's wrong Kiki?"

Kyla leaned against Azriel clutching her chest, her bruised ribs preventing her from catching her breath. The child stood by her side looking down at the mortal in concern. Kyla tried to smile and reached up to take the young faery's hand.

"It's okay. I'm okay," she gasped. "You're just growing so fast and have gotten really strong! Knocked the wind out of me is all." She held her breath and moved to get up off the ground, clutching to Azriel's arm for support. She was trying to cover up how much pain she was in and reassure the child she wasn't hurt, but Azriel wasn't buying it.

"Kiki isn't feeling well right now so we need to go," he said down to the child. "Will you be able to find your way home alright?" The child nodded solemnly, also not buying the story.

Azriel didn't waste a moment to reassure the child again, but winnowed them immediately to the townhouse and helped Kyla up the front steps.

"Why didn't you say anything?" he pleaded with her.

Kyla tried to shrug. "Never crossed my mind. I'm used to pushing the pain down and moving forward. But my ribs…" she wheezed and bent double, clutching her chest. The door opened quickly and Mor stood in the doorway taking in the hunch in Kyla's poster and the grimace on Azriel's face.

She pursed her lips and spoke to them sharply. "You're in big trouble."

Mor stepped aside and revealed Madja standing in the foyer, her arms crossed and glaring at the pair of them.

* * *

As soon as she was able, Kyla resumed her daily walks, but it was more out of habit than a need to escape the house. She would wander to a park or lookout and sit on a bench for hours, staring out at the city. For the most part the Inner Circle left her alone, offering help or time to talk now and again, but mostly giving her the space to process. Sometimes they would walk with her under the pretense of needing to ask her advice on something. What did she know about such-and-such place, or did this trade deal sound reasonable, could she fix something or tinker with this problem. Kyla only ever half listened and tried to answer their questions, but gone was the bubbly enthusiasm or keen interest in problem solving. She was mostly silent at meals, uninterested in her food, half listening to the conversation.

Cassian hadn't pushed, but he tried to encourage her to resume their workouts. She would either sleep in past the time they were supposed to go jogging, or find an excuse to be unavailable. But it was hard to do as she avoided the workshop and the stack of books on her bedside table never shrank.

As she sank further into her depression Azriel became increasingly agitated. He found every excuse to come by the house. Kyla would ask for any updates from his contacts on the sorcerer or other clues, but he was distressingly short on information. She never asked about Ferrick's trial. She knew that Rhys was communicating with Helion and the other High Lords present that night on how to proceed, but there was no precedent and all sought different outcomes.

One evening they sat on the back patio, looking out over the lights of Velaris, chatting about the day and enjoying a nightcap in the warm summer night. Cassian and Azriel had stayed for supper and Lucien was updating them on his work in the mortal lands with Nesta and Elain.

"Some interesting border settlements have cropped up. Not in Spring, of course, but on the human side of the Wall-that-Was some informal trading has begun. The activity has attracted some interesting business partnerships," Lucien explained.

Azriel nodded in agreement. His spies had reported as much to him already, though they were vague on the details. "Tamlin's borders remain closed, so it's hard to know how the faeries are getting through to the mortal lands to conduct business. I'm sure the underground market is going strong through."

"Trust profit and money to bring people who hate each other together," Cassian added ruefully.

Nuala came out on the patio then and walked over to Kyla who was staring out at the city lights, listening to the report silently.

"Kyla, someone came to the door just now asking after you. He seemed genuinely concerned that you were feeling all right and left this for you. He indicated it might make you feel better, so I thought I'd bring it out right out away instead of putting it in your room. I hope you don't mind," Nuala explained gently.

Kyla sat up straight and blinked at the wraith. "Of course I don't mind, thank you." She put down the untouched drink she was holding and accepted the wooden box that Nuala handed to her. The others tried to continue their conversations and pretend like they weren't watching her every move, but they were all curious to see if the gift had the intended effect of bringing a smile to the human girl's face.

The box was carefully crafted, about the size of half a loaf of bread, but held no ornamentation or lettering indicating its contents. Kyla carefully opened the lid and found a suede bag inside. She rested the box on her lap and reached into the bag, pulling out a small trinket. They all held their breaths while Kyla stared down at the object in her hand. Instead of jumping for joy like they all hoped, Kyla leapt to her feet and sent the box crashing to the floor. She sprinted past the gawking faeries and fled into the house.

"What in the Cauldron…" Feyre said wide-eyed.

Azriel jumped up and tore after Kyla with Mor close on his heels. Amren walked over and picked up the box, inspecting it carefully. Lucien looked to Rhys and Cassian for an explanation but they just got up to follow Kyla into the house as well.

"Kyla, wait! What's wrong?" Azriel shouted after her.

But Kyla crashed through the rooms and ripped open the front door.

"What was in the box?" called Mor, but Azriel just shook his head and followed Kyla outside.

The human flew down the steps, across the lawn, and yanked open the gate. When she reached the street in front of the house she skidded to a stop and spun back and forth, searching the darkness for some indication of which way she should go.

Azriel caught up but kept a few steps back; he didn't dare get too close in this panicked state. The rest of the group appeared at the gate behind him, but still Kyla peered down the streets, her eyes wild and breathing heavy.

"Kyla, talk to me. What do you need?" Azriel said in a soothing voice. He inched forward like he was trying to calm a panicked horse.

Kyla spun and faced the crowd at the gate searching their faces.

"Nuala! Who dropped this off? Who was it?"

The wraith just shook her head in despair and looked at the others. "I…I didn't get a name."

"What did he look like? What type of faery? Where did he go after?" Kyla demanded.

But Nuala cringed and wrung her hands. "There have been so many visitors and gifts for you, I stopped paying attention. There was nothing really remarkable about him."

Rhys stepped in. "But there was something remarkable. You said so yourself, that 'he seemed genuinely concerned'. There was something different about him that made you think to bring the gift to Kyla immediately, rather than leave it in her room."  
Nuala's eyes went wide in confusion. "I did? No, I just put the gifts and flowers in her room."

Now Azriel stepped closer to Nuala and held her face in his massive hands, peering into her eyes. "Why did you bring the gift to her right away, Nuala?"

Nuala stared into the shadowsinger's face in fear, unable to look away. She was panting heavily, her face pained in confusion. "What gift? I don't know what…"

Azriel's head snapped up and he looked at Rhys. "The memory is fading, Rhys. Grab it!"

Rhys stepped closer to Nuala and tried to slip into her mind to grab the image of the faery who had delivered the gift. He watched Nuala accept the box kindly but when he turned back there was no one at the door. The glamour was powerful, wiping the memory away right in front on his eyes. Rhys stepped out of Nuala's mind and looked at the others.

He shook his head once. "It's gone."

As one they turned back to Kyla who still clutched the object in her hand.

"What was in the box, Kyla?" Amren asked coldly. She stepped forward too quickly for Kyla to react and grabbed her forearm, squeezing it hard enough make Kyla drop the gift. A small wooden carving clattered on the cobblestone street. They all leaned in close to see what it was, no one daring to touch something associated with such powerful magic.

It was a wooden carving of a fox.

* * *

Kyla retreated to her room almost immediately, leaving Azriel to explain the significance of the carving being a fox. They stayed up late discussing the possibilities and what could be done. Cassian, Mor, and Lucien took to streets to see if they could pick up any indication of who had visited the townhouse that night. Amren agreed to take the carving with her and see if she could uncover any magic lurking within. Rhys and Feyre tried to reassure a guilt-stricken Nuala that she had done nothing wrong, while Azriel restlessly waited for a report from Cerridwen that Kyla was sleeping and didn't need anything.

After ensuring that Cerridwen was watching his mate, Azriel moved through the foyer to join in the hunt. As he reached for the door his hand paused on the handle and he turned back to face Rhys. A deep fear shone in his eyes, pushing aside anger and frustration and all the other emotions that flooded through him.

"Someone with great power came to this house and dropped that off. He knew she was here." His eyes pleaded with Rhys. "Make sure—" he swallowed forcefully then softened his tone. "Would you please ensure the wards are strong enough? Please…please keep her safe." He knew Rhys had already reinforced them, but he needed to say it, to feel like he was doing everything in his power to protect her.

Rhys nodded solemnly. "Of course, brother."


	38. Let us Love You

The next morning Kyla rose at dawn and pulled out her training clothes. The boots felt sturdy but flexible and the cool night air lingered, keeping the temperature comfortable. She moved quietly through the house and out the front door. Once on the street, she paused searching the lanes once again for the mysterious messenger who had delivered the fox, saying that it would make her feel better. The streetlights were fading in the growing dawn and some early deliveries were being made to stores and houses.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, inhaling the scents of the city. Then her feet started moving, and she ran.

* * *

Mor and Kyla worked through the core strengthening exercises in the training ring on top of the House of Wind. Though they kept to the shade, sweat poured off of them as the summer sun beat down. Kyla sucked in as much air into her lungs as possible, willing the fresh blood to flow to her shaking muscles.

"C'mon, just five more!" Mor encouraged through clenched teeth, as she too pushed through the strain. In unison they collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.

"I had no idea it was so easy to get out of shape," Kyla gasped. "You'd think I had never done a sit-up in my life."

Mor groaned and rolled over to her knees before rising shakily. "I can't believe I agreed to spar with Azriel after this. He's going to kick my ass." She reached down and offered a hand up to Kyla who accepted and let the faerie pull her to her feet. They lurched over to the bench where towels and cool water waited for them.

"Why would you agree to that? Are you being punished for something?" Kyla joked.

"Never good enough for Azriel, it seems," Mor sighed. "No, that's not being fair. He sees the worst in this world. His shadows and spies bring him secrets and knowledge that he sometimes can't even bring himself to share. He knows what's out there, and he wants us all to be at our best in case we ever come across it."

Kyla took a long drink of water and wiped her face down with the towel. She didn't have to imagine some of the horrors that Azriel had seen. She had seen some of them herself and been unable to do anything about it. And yet the Cauldron kept her alive despite being woefully unprepared for the real world.

As Kyla and Mor rested and hydrated, a shadow passed over the training ring causing the females to squint and look at the sky. A tangled mess of wings and flesh was hurtling towards them, the sound of metal clashing and crunch of fists hitting flesh growing more distinct as it approached. Cassian and Azriel were falling from the sky, locked in a dance of aerial hand-to-hand combat.

Mor grabbed Kyla's arm, hauling her to the wall of the training ring as the males slammed to the ground, separating at the last minute to avoid broken bones. Mor coughed and waved her hand in front of her face as the dust settled and everyone caught their breaths. Then Cassian started to chuckle and rolled over to face Azriel.

"I had you! That little trick you pulled almost ended it but left your right side open to a counter-strike."

Azriel leapt to his feet in one motion and sheathed his knives. "You did not have me. It was all calculated. There's no way you could have landed that blow." He stalked over to Cassian and offered him a hand up, then joined the females at the water table.

"That was dramatic," Mor said with feigned annoyance.

Cassian walked over and wrapped her in a sweaty hug. "You know how I like to make an entrance," he defended.

Mor cringed and pushed off of Cassian, pretending to wipe the dirt off of her clothes. "No, I don't. That's not a thing you do at all. You just made that up now." She rolled her eyes at him and walked over to select a sword for her practice with Azriel.

Cassian pretended to look hurt but got over it quickly as he grabbed a water jug and poured the entire contents over his head.

Azriel gave him a disgusted look and shook his head. "Good thing no one else wanted any of that water."

Mor just waved a hand over her shoulder and the jug filled again. Cassian winked at Kyla and solemnly poured a cup for his brother. Azriel just scowled and grabbed the water cup, gulping it down as he tried not to stare at Kyla. She was wiping down her face with a cool cloth, and the sweat and heat spread her scent throughout the ring making it difficult for him to concentrate.

"How was your workout?" he asked tensely.

Kyla looked up and nodded simply. "It was fine. Feels good to get the heart rate up again."

He nodded and looked away from her shining face, healthy from the exercise. "That's good. Very good. Does Madja know that you're working out again? She might have concerns…"

Kyla scrunched up her brow and looked between him and Cassian. "Madja has put all the bits and pieces back together again, some in better condition than when they started. I don't know what she would be concerned about."

Azriel shifted his weight awkwardly and searched for some explanation for his somewhat baseless concern, but Cassian stepped into save him. "How about some one-two punches then? We can see how that core is holding up," he suggested and walked between them to gather the punching pads.

Azriel quickly turned and tried to catch Mor off guard with his attack. But she had been watching the whole scene and easily spun out of the way, coiling for her own blow.

Kyla took another gulp of water and walked over to Cassian waiting with the punching pads. She placed her feet in the correct stance and bent her knees to engage her core muscles. Everything was in place, her technique flawless. She remembered every word she had read about fighting and had some of the best instructors in Prythian help her put it into practice. Twist and punch. _Use the stronger abdominal muscles; arms are thin and weak. Add power from the legs. Don't sacrifice your balance. Keep your eye on the target._

Kyla held her fists up, prepared to punch. _Keep your eye on the target._ She stared hard at the pads in Cassian's hands. Left, then right. Then left. She took a breath to punch, and let the breath out. She inhaled again, and looked at the pad. Punch. Just punch it.

Cassian was saying something to her. Encouragement? Instruction? Admonishment? She couldn't make out the words. A roaring filled her ears as she strained to hear what he was saying. She clenched her fists and then reset them again. Inhale. Exhale. Left, right, left, right.

Her hands fell to her sides as she straightened her legs, not looking Cassian in the face. Some distant part of her mind was aware that Azriel and Mor had stopped sparing and were watching her. Without a word she turned and walked out of the training ring.

Red filled Kyla's vision as she stalked through the halls. She wasn't even thinking, just putting one foot in front of the other. In the distance someone was calling her name, but the sound didn't register in her mind. She ploughed forward turning corners, climbing stairs, moving through rooms.

Mor finally snatched her arm and pulled her to stop, pushing her against the wall as if to snap her out of the trance.

"Kyla! Kyla, talk to me. It's fine, it's alright. You don't have to fight if you don't want to," she implored with concern on her face.

Kyla sagged against the wall and rocked her head back, looking up at the ceiling. She took several breaths before she could answer.

"But that's the thing, I _do_ want to fight. I want defend myself, I want protect the people I love, I want to defeat my enemies...and I can't!" She glanced at Mor then looked away again. "I tried so hard! I practiced and trained and learned and then did nothing. He dragged me away like I was a child! A drugged-up-pathetic-sorry-excuse-for-a-High-Fae tossed me around like a doll and I couldn't do anything to stop it."

Mor's cringed and ran her hand down her face like she could wipe the memory of that night away. "But the rest of are here-"

"But you weren't!" Kyla shouted.

Mor stepped back quickly as though Kyla had punched her in the stomach.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to say…" Kyla swallowed and looked away again. She exhaled deeply and then tried to look Mor in the eye. "You can't always be there, and you shouldn't have to be." She couldn't be guarded at all times, escorted down the halls because a threat lurked behind every corner.

"You're right," Mor nodded solemnly. "We let you down." They promised her safety and instead she bled out on the ground before them.

Mor's admission pained Kyla even more. She pinched eyes shut and brushed her face, trying to hide a small sniffle. "No you didn't, I let myself down. I want to blame you. I want to blame all of you! I try to convince myself that it wasn't my fault, and that you should have done more. But I can't seem to believe it. I know that I agreed to be the bait. I know that I stormed out into the Illyrian camp that morning, and that I provoked Devlon."

She hugged her arms across her body as if trying to keep the emotions from spilling out on the floor. "And then I'm so angry. I'm so angry at myself for being naïve and I'm so angry at _someone_ for making me this way."

"That…that's not your fault, Kyla," Mor tried to reassure her.

"It doesn't matter whose fault it is, it's still my problem to deal with."

"You don't have to do it alone," Mor insisted.

Kyla gave Mor a pitiful look. "I'm a mortal on the wrong side of the Wall-that-Was. I've never been so alone."

That Kyla would consider herself more alone now than when she was at the Cabin broke Mor's heart. There were people here but she was still unique, the only mortal courtier in Prythian. "That's not true! You're not alone in this. We're all here with you."

"Then why is Ferrik still alive?"

Mor looked aghast. She stammered, trying to come up with an explanation. "Because we're working through the trial; we have to consider all the angles."

Kyla shook her head and huffed in disgust. "Because he assaulted a mortal, and no one cares." She stared hard at Mor, challenging the fae to say otherwise. "Rhys cares, but he can't start a war over it. I know how it works, and I can't say I would do any different in his place. But that doesn't change how _hollow_ I feel inside, like nothing I do will ever be good enough, because I will still be just a human."

Mor pinched her lips and exhaled sharply. Kyla tried to move off down the hallway but Mor blocked her path.

"Azriel loves you!" Mor blurted out.

Kyla stopped in her tracks.

"We all love you. You might be human and fragile and, frankly, unnervingly clumsy, but you are also smart and funny and strong. You are _so_ strong! To live and laugh even under the weight of those scars, carrying the burden of not knowing your place in all this? You landed on our doorstep and we didn't know what to do with you, and now I don't know what we would do without you."

Kyla stared at the fae with her jaw practically on the ground. She was so astonished by the confession she hadn't a clue how to react. Several breaths passed and neither female moved.

"Let us help you carry some of this load. Will you let us love you?" Mor pleaded quietly.

Kyla just continued to stare at the Morrigan, her breath coming in quick bursts, her throat closed tight. Tentatively she stepped towards Mor but stopped just out of reach. She started to reach up to her but then covered her mouth with her hand like she was going to be sick and shook her head vigorously, her eyes imploring Mor to understand her pain.

"I don't know how."


	39. The Library

Kyla's mind was blank as she stumbled down the halls of the House of Wind. She ended up at the library though had no memory of how she got there. She didn't often visit the library itself, just because it was difficult for her to get there. Instead she would request books on different topics and they would get delivered to the townhouse as the librarians collected them. But if she had the chance she loved to come and peruse the stacks. Thousands upon thousands of books lined the walls all containing a wealth of knowledge and history that practically made Kyla faint in anticipation.

But now she found the books overwhelming. Instead of a font of knowledge she could tap, she saw a wall of history she could never possibly understand. But the cavern built into the mountain was cool and quiet and allowed her to calm her racing heart. She fell into a meditative trance as she walked up and down the rows, tracing a hand absentmindedly along the spines.

She was so lost in her mind that she nearly collided with Lucien as he stepped around a large worktable covered with books. Kyla blinked rapidly to bring her mind back to the present as she took in Feyre and Elain sitting at the table with paper and ink before them.

"I'm sorry," she stammered. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

Elain gave her a warm smile. "Nonsense! You're not interrupting at all."

"In fact, you might be interested in what we're looking at," Feyre added enthusiastically.

Kyla approached the table warily but stopped when she spied the carving of the fox sitting in the centre. Feyre followed her gaze.

"Amren couldn't find anything hidden within it. Just a plain wooden carving of a fox. You can take it back if you'd like." Feyre smiled up at Kyla who stared at the fox like it would jump up and bite her. "But I'll get rid of it if it bothers you…"

Kyla tentatively reached out took the fox in her hands, running her fingers over its smooth surfaces and detailed edges. "No, thank you. I'd like to keep it, if that's alright."

Feyre nodded and Lucien pulled out a chair for Kyla to sit at the table with them. No one spoke for a minute as Kyla continued to gaze at the fox in her hands. Then she seemed to remember where she was and looked up at the group.

"What were you looking up?"

Feyre cleared her throat and looked to Lucien and Elain before answering. "Actually, we were looking for some significance in the fox. Myths, folklore, but also spells, historical accounts, and records."

Kyla looked around the table in confusion. "Really? You're looking for information on foxes?"

"It's a bit of blind chase, but we had to start somewhere," Elain added softly. "It might give us a hint as to where you came from."

"Of course, I mean, thank you. I'm just surprised, is all. I assumed you would be looking up important Court…stuff," Kyla said shyly.

The three faes glanced at each other guiltily, like Kyla had called them out on not really showing any interest in solving her mystery before now.

Feyre nodded. "Fair enough. But today we're looking for any clues as to why your fox might be significant."

Kyla gave them a small smile and bobbed her head in appreciation. "What have you found so far?"

"Well, not much," Lucien sighed. "They are resourceful creatures. They easily adapt to new environments—which I would say appropriately matches you, Kyla—and are known to be playful and highly intelligent."

"However, they're also known as the tricksters. Some cultures believe that to have a fox visit your camp was a bad omen. The fox was believed to represent a debt collector and you would be forced to sacrifice something you love for the balance of life," Elain added. She grimaced at the thought and looked down at the books for a different answer.

"I was a fox for forty-nine years," Lucien said into space. He spoke so softly they almost didn't hear him. His eyes misted over in the memory and pain flashed across his face. "When Amarantha cast that curse, I was wearing a fox mask to the party."

The females watched him in silence, not knowing what to say.

"Careful Lucien, with a history like that I'm starting to suspect you might be my secret-admirer-stalker-fairy-godmother-person," Kyla said, forcing herself to keep a straight face. It was a weak joke, but she was out of practice. Ferrik's attack had squashed the humour she usually found in things, but seeing the pain on Lucien's face made her dig deep to try.

Lucien looked up sharply like he was about to deny the accusation, but then saw the tiniest glimmer in Kyla's eye and realised it was a joke. A smile slowly spread across his face and he nodded. "I would never be so obvious."

Kyla answered his smile with one of her own, feeling just the slightest bit lighter.

"What if it was just the only thing the person knew how to carve?" she suggested. "I mean, who said the fox had any significance at all?"

The trio hesitated, watching Kyla's face carefully. Elain glanced at Feyre quickly and Lucien tapped his fingers on the book in front of him.

Kyla placed the figurine on the table again and rested her chin on her hands while she studied it. She could feel them watching her but refused to acknowledge what they were thinking. "It could be… just a fox," she argued weakly.

"Do you really think that?" Feyre asked gently.

"I don't know what to think anymore," Kyla sighed deeply. "The first time I met the fox, it attacked me." She paused as she reached way back in her memory to that day at the Cabin. "I was out in the forest and it appeared out of nowhere and grabbed my leg. I kicked it away and started running but it tripped me and ripped my pants. I threw it off again and sprinted for the Cabin…where Ferrik was waiting."

Kyla sat up again but didn't take her eyes away from the carving. "I thought the fox was an evil omen and cursed him…but when I regained consciousness afterward, the fox was chasing away the ravens and vultures who had come to wait for me to die."

Lucien covered his mouth and Feyre's eyes burned with fury as she clenched her jaw. Kyla didn't mean to be graphic; she wasn't looking for a reaction. But she found that once she started talking, the words poured out of her like a dam had burst.

She tried to smile and look at them again, noticing the strained silence. "Turns out the fox was trying to stop me from returning to the Cabin, not attacking me."

Elain cleared her throat. "So…good thing."

Kyla smiled at Elain and shrugged. Lucien got up abruptly and began to move away.

"Everything alright, Lucien?" Kyla inquired.

He stopped in his tracks and turned to her in confusion. "My brother did that to you and you're asking me how _I'm_ feeling?" He ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

Kyla glanced at Feyre and Elain and shrugged again. "It's not your fault. You didn't have anything to do with it."

"I could have…if I had been at home, I would have stopped…I'm sure I would have suspected…" Lucien stammered.

Kyla watched him pace about and shook her head with a sigh. "What I can't figure out is how you're such a good male, and your family is so awful. Why did Beron only sire one decent son? He certainly had enough chances to get it right," Kyla pondered to the group.

Feyre coughed and stood suddenly, gathering the books in front of her brusquely. "I think that's enough darkness and gloom for one day. I'm heading for the sunshine."

* * *

The research party inspired Kyla to spend more time at the library buried within the mountain. During the hottest parts of the day she would wind her way through the dark stacks, inhaling the musty smells of old books and ancient knowledge. She wanted to do some of her own research but felt uncomfortable sharing it with the others. She couldn't articulate why, but talking about human magic with the fae made her wary. The words Eskrie had taught her were burned in her mind, though the memory of the side-effects of doing the spell made her shudder.

From her pocket she pulled out the amulet she had used in the cave and placed it on the table in front of her. She had long since memorized its every angle and shade, but she placed it in front of the books for comparison. Kyla spent days searching the library for any clues as to the amulet's origin or the power it held. She was hesitant to ask the librarians for help, keeping her requests vague and varied, giving no hint as to her true purpose.

She was concentrating heavily on a text when a body collapsed into the chair next to her, causing her to nearly jump away.

"For Cauldron's sake, you scared the living daylights out of me!" she exclaimed.

Cassian just titled his head back and laughed heartily.

"Seriously, I don't have an infinite number years and you just took ten of them off my life!" She breathed heavily and clutched her chest as she tried to slow her racing heart.

Cassian looked as if he was about to say something, but instead sat back and put his feet up on the table and his arms behind his head like he was lounging at the beach and not in an institution of learning. "How did you not hear me coming? Are human ears really that bad?"

Kyla gave him a disgusted looked as she ran her hand down her face. "No, I was just concentrating and had tuned everything else out. This is a library, you know."

"No, it's not," Cassian retorted. "It's a prison."

Kyla rolled her eyes. "Maybe to the illiterate, but the books kind of give its purpose away. And if you're in any doubt, the eerily silent librarians will be sure to remind you. Repeatedly." She glanced over her shoulder like one might be lurking around the corner, scowling at them right now.

Cassian snorted. "You don't know the half of it. What lives in here…" his face paled and actually shuddered as he looked around carefully.

Kyla tried to follow his eyes for whatever threat Cassian feared, but saw nothing of concern. "Your fear of books and librarians is noted, and I have filed it away for future reference," she stated cheekily.

The threat brought Cassian's attention back to the mortal in front of him. "Well then, we'd better get out of here. You were going to meet me for a workout, and I haven't got all day."

Kyla sat up straight and looked to the clock on the wall. "Crap! I'm sorry! I lost track of time." She began collecting the books on the table, stacking them quickly.

Cassian got up and walked down the aisle to the winding ramp that encircled the centre pit but didn't go near the railing. Kyla caught up to him quickly and started to make her way up the sloping floor to the surface. She stopped suddenly, thinking she had forgotten the amulet on the table, and perched the books she was carrying on the railing while she checked her pockets.

Cassian stepped over and snatched the books back. "You don't want to drop those down there," he said sternly.

Kyla gave him a funny look and peered over the railing. "Why, what's down there? Aside from a long walk back."

Cassian's face was ghostly white and his eyes wide. "Promise me you'll never go down there," he demanded.

Kyla stared at him incredulously and crossed her arms across her chest. "Uhh nope. I will not promise that."

Cassian gave her a cutting look.

"You realise that by saying that you just made me want to go down there even more? What could possibly be in a library that is so bad?" She peered down into the darkness, listening for any clues. "An evil monster librarian?" she smirked at her own joke and looked up see Cassian's reaction, but the Illyrian's eyes had glazed over.

Kyla's smile faltered. "Cassian, what is it?"

A moment passed before he blinked and looked at her again. "I'm sorry, I have to go. There's something Rhys needs me to deal with." He carelessly dropped the books on the railing again and sprinted out of the library.

Kyla scrambled to catch the books petering on the edge but one slipped from her grasp and fell into the abyss. She watched in horror until it was out of sight, but never heard it hit the bottom. She snapped her head back up to screech at Cassian for being so careless but found instead a librarian glaring at her with arms crossed.

Kyla's eyes went wide. "That was not my fault!"


	40. Confessions

Kyla started and finished the workout in the House of Wind on her own, enjoying the solitude for a change. She never imagined she would want to be alone again, but found that she sometimes couldn't hear herself think with everyone around her. Now, alone in the training ring, she could only hear her breath and grunts as she lifted, hauled, pulled, and pushed.

Thunderclouds rolled overhead, rain was in the air. She looked up to the sky anticipating the relief the cool storm would bring to the summer heat. She let her head fall back and rolled her neck, stretching out after the intense workout.

She was in the best shape of her life. Her body was toned, muscles strong and quick to react. Her sword skills were rough, but accurate and effective, only lacking the polish that hundreds of years of practice could bring. She had picked up knife skills quickly, and Azriel had made of point of teaching her how to use Enoch's dagger properly.

But it hadn't been enough. It hadn't been anything.

As the first drops of rain fell she brushed past the large punching bag and gave it a frustrated shove. The bag swung and knocked her back, causing her to stumble slightly. She straightened slowly and glared at the bag as though it had pushed her on purpose. Automatically she reached back and slammed her fist into the bag, relishing in the solid impact and sharp pain that shot up her arm.

It was painful, but it felt good too. The leather was warm and rough after repeated beatings and smelled of sweat and effort. Kyla analysed the bag, wondering if it would have felt the same had she landed a punch on Ferrik's face. She had swung at him but the blows glanced off his face harmlessly. Had she been too drunk to hit him? Had he been too drugged to notice? She couldn't even remember how he dragged her to the courtyard. The terror blended everything together.

She reached back and landed two more punches on the bag. Again, the bite of the impact on the leather shot up her arms. She embraced it. She punched again then spun and landed a kick. The bag swung widely then came back at her and she jumped to land another kick. Subconsciously she entered a warrior's trance, the motions blending together in a practiced dance. But as her knuckles and wrists began to ache, the high off the pain took over and she became wild, making impact in any way possible. She no longer cared about technique or style or balance, she just punched pouring every ounce of anger, blame, guilt, and rage into her swings.

* * *

Azriel landed on the House of Wind and followed the unintentional tug of his mate. He had routed out the mole in the Court of Nightmares but left it to Rhys and Cassian to deal with the perpetrator. Or maybe Rhys would have Feyre do it in public to teach a lesson. The plot had been against the High Lady's life; it seemed only fitting that she be the one to deliver the punishment. But Azriel knew Feyre would be too lenient for Rhys' liking. Rhys wouldn't tolerate the threat to his mate, but Feyre had too much humanity to crush someone's mind or destroy a family. Perhaps her humanity would signal a change in the Hewn City; a new direction for the loathsome people who lived there.

Like the changes another human had brought to the Night Court. Azriel's whole family was deeply distressed after what happened at Day. Rhys had spent countless hours in meetings and negotiations with other High Lords, discussing how to proceed. For what happened with Ferrik might set precedent for future dealings with the humans, now that the Wall had fallen. It could be that one mortal changed the course Prythian for years to come, just as Feyre had done Under the Mountain.

That mortal had changed the course of Azriel's life forever. He still loved Mor, he always would. But that angst, that yearning to be near her had dimmed. He had trouble even remembering what it felt like. Now he looked at Mor and saw a beloved sister. Someone he would give his life to protect, but same as he would for Feyre and Rhys, Cassian, and even Amren…on a good day.

But Kyla…it was a different feeling he had never known before that drew him to the mortal. A devotion so deep he would move mountains to serve her. And now he could barely stand to be in the same room with her. Cassian ran interference, Rhys kept him distracted, Mor and Feyre talked him through it. And Kyla had no clue the effect she had on him. That her happiness brought him unending joy and her sadness devastated him.

Like the sadness that drew him to her now. She had only sadness since he let Ferrik attack her. It emanated off of her in waves, even when she pretended to be engaged in discussions, dedicated to a workout, or lost in her books. He followed that feeling through the halls of the House of Wind until he could hear her grunts and the smack of blows landing on leather. He stood at the entrance to the training ring for a moment and watched her annihilate the punching bag. Fat raindrops drenched her when she stepped out from under the awning, the rain cutting through the summer heat and mercifully dimming her scent.

She was crying, her sobs barely audible above the sound of the rain. But she kept punching as he walked through the rain across the training ring. Her knuckles were bleeding and her legs shaking in fatigue, but she didn't seem startled when she stepped into her line of vision. She didn't acknowledge him, nor did she stop kicking and punching. After stumbling over her own feet in exhaustion, he stepped in and caught her fist, holding it tight and preventing her from pulling back. Without missing a beat she swung at him with her other arm but he caught that one too. She tried weakly to pull away but her legs buckled and she collapsed to her knees, pulling Azriel down with her. Tears poured down her face as she gasped to catch her breath, but she didn't push him away and didn't snatch her hands back.

Azriel waited a moment before releasing her wrists and placing his hands on her cheeks.

"Please," he begged. "Tell me."

She gave him a pained looked and then pulled her face away. "I can't. It's so horrible," she cried.

"There's nothing you can't tell me. I will still…I will understand."

She refused to look him eye but stayed kneeling in the wet dirt her hands limp at her sides.

"But it will hurt you," Kyla sobbed. "I can't do that to you!"

Thunder rolled overhead and the rain intensified, but still they knelt in front of each other as the water poured down their faces.

Azriel nodded in understanding. "You can't keep it inside anymore. It's eating you up. You're not the same person who lived in that Cabin. You have to talk about it, let me help you work through it, or else it will break you from the inside."

Kyla let out a sob and brought up her hands to her face. "I wish…" she stammered. "There are days I wish Ferrik had taken me with him. That we had gone to the sorcerer and maybe I could have found some answers there. And then I hate myself for thinking that. For betraying all of you and what you've done for me." She wept openly now, anguish displayed in every part of her body from her twisted face to her hunched shoulders and bloody knuckles. "I'm a terrible person," she sobbed.

The confession hit Azriel in the gut like a weighted spear. "Are you so unhappy here, with us?"

"No! I'm just…lost. This winter was the best…was a dream. But what happened at Day showed me I can't hide in Velaris. And I don't want to! I want to understand why this happened to me. I can't ignore it and I'm wasting time that I don't have!"

 _You have time_.

The words almost came out, but saying it didn't make it true. He needed to tell her how long she had been at the Cabin. The Inner Circle had convinced themselves it was right to keep it from her because the information was incomplete and would just add confusion. But really they were afraid of what it would do to her morale. How do you process something like that? But just because she had lived in the Cabin for more than two hundred years didn't mean she was immortal. Was her body ageing like a human now? Was she really running out of time?

Azriel gently reached up brushed his thumb across her cheek, wiping away the tears. "I'm a terrible person, too." He held her face gently while she searched his eyes for an explanation. "Sometimes I wish…when you are hurt or in danger or scared…I wish we had never left the Cabin. I picture you there, safe from all of this, and regret that we left. And then I think of how miserable you were, and how you would rather die than not live, and I hate myself for wishing that."

Kyla froze, astonished with his confession. But she didn't push him away in disgust nor scream at him in anger. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked him straight in the eye.

"'We?'"

She didn't miss anything. Her sharp mind caught his slip up, even hidden within his horrible wish. It took every ounce of effort to pull his hand away from her face and cut that intimate moment off. This was not how he wanted her to love him. He didn't want her to come to him out of desperation and sadness. He couldn't take advantage of her fragility at this time in her life. It wasn't right. Rhys had done the same with Feyre; given her the space to figure herself out first, and then meet him when she was ready. Kyla needed that chance too.

He swallowed his own tears down and looked away from her burning stare then tried to plant a joking smile on his face. "Well, I would have stayed for the good company. I think the fox was starting to warm up to me."

Kyla actually let out a small chuckle at that. Azriel thought he could see some of that weight fall off her shoulders. Like the pressure of the secret had been reduced even slightly. She wiped her hand across her face, brushing the water away, then looked up at the Illyrian kneeling before her with a tentative smile. "He was rather picky about his friends," she confirmed.

Azriel had already forgotten his weak joke and blinked in confusion.

Kyla's smile widened. "The fox," she clarified with eyebrows raised.

Azriel answered her smile and nodded in understanding. "He was just looking out for you."

"I hope so."


	41. Sailing

The storm broke the heat wave and Velaris settled into a comfortable summer temperature. Azriel told no one else of their conversation in the training ring that day, but everyone picked up on the subtle change in mood around the house. Kyla joined a few discussions and showed some interest in what they were working on. The windows to her workshop were flung open to the summer breeze and she gradually began to spend more time on her various projects.

One morning she wandered into the kitchen and found Cassian spattered with flour and gazing into the oven with what could only be described as consternation written on his face.

"It's an oven," Kyla stated obviously. "Or at least, so I've been told."

Cassian straightened quickly, looking like he had been caught in the act. When he saw it was Kyla his shoulders relaxed a little and he frowned back down at his creation. "Got the oven part down, it's what's inside that's cumbersome."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm baking a cake."

"You? Are baking? Don't you have armies to command somewhere?"

"Not today! Today I'm trying a new recipe."

Kyla's eyebrows shot up as she looked around the exploded kitchen. "Where is everyone?"

"Rhys and Feyre are at a council meeting, Mor is meeting a friend, Azriel is spying on someone I'm sure, and Nuala and Cerridwen are taking a much deserved day off."

"And you…?"

"Are baking a cake."

"Clearly." Kyla took in the pots and pans littering the counter, bags of flour, dyes for icing, not to mention a good portion of ingredients on the floor. "Why?"

"Because we have learned, through great difficulty and centuries of intrigue, Nuala and Cerridwen's birthday, and it's coming up," Cassian explained, quite impressed with himself.

Kyla wandered over and picked up the recipe book reading through the ingredients. "This cake calls for stardust. How's that going for you?"

Cassian cringed. "Well it's a bit of a work in progress. It's supposed to sparkle when you cut into it, but I'm on batch number three and no success yet." He twisted his mouth to the side as he tried to work out where he had gone wrong.

"Stardust has some pretty specific requirements. Do you want a hand in working it out?" Kyla offered. She had worked with mineral before but never in an edible. A spark lit up her eye as she contemplated the possibilities.

Cassian watched her closely and then grinned. "Only if you promise not to tell them how many failed cakes we make before the final product."

Kyla grinned back at him. "Deal."

They spent the whole morning in the kitchen trying different recipes and coming up with the most creative cakes possible. Cassian insisted they make two entirely different cakes. He argued that as twins they always got the same of everything, but they were still individuals and should be allowed to celebrate their shared birthday in their own ways.

Kyla also gathered together some materials for a picnic lunch she and Azriel had booked for the afternoon. He had planned a surprise for her and would only say she should grab some food because they would be out until sunset.

At one point Cassian and Kyla mixed the stardust incorrectly and instead of fluffing out to fill the pan, the cake exploded in their faces before they even got it into the oven.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway as Azriel burst in through the door to find Cassian and Kyla covered in cake batter, and smoke and sparkles clouding the kitchen. They blinked rapidly and checked over their bodies for injury while Azriel glared at each them. When Kyla looked over at Cassian she burst into laughter and clutched her sides. Cassian wiped cake batter out of his eyes and waved his wings to blow the stardust sparkles out the window.

Azriel could have throttled Cassian for making him think that the house had been attacked, but he was distracted by the sight of Kyla leaning on the kitchen counter in a fit of laughter. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. A grin crept on to his face as Kyla's giggles flowed down the bond and for that one moment, joy overpowered the sadness and pushed it down. It wasn't gone, but it was chipped away.

Cassian started collecting bowls and spoons while Kyla wiped the tears from her face and turned to Azriel.

"Are you ready to go? I have everything all set up," Azriel announced.

Kyla nodded and looked around. "I just need to go and clean up a bit. Oh and I made you a sandwich! You were out all morning and I thought you'd like something to eat before we went out." She fished around the basket and pulled out a packet, offering it to Azriel as she moved to the door.

But Azriel didn't move to take it and just stared down at the sandwich in her hand as though it would jump out and bite him. By the sink Cassian dropped the bowls he was washing and stooped quickly to pick them up, trying to make it seem like he wasn't watching Azriel closely.

"You made that? Not…not Cassian?" Azriel stammered, his breath coming in short bursts.

"Yeah, I made you a sandwich. I'm not a great cook but I think I can handle a sandwich. It's kind of hard to mess up. Are you not hungry?" she waved the sandwich in front of him again.

"I…I can't take from you," Azriel panted lightly.

"Sure you can, it's easy. You just open your hand and take the sandwich. It's a sandwich, not a crown."

Azriel actually took a step back, recoiling from the offered sandwich. Cassian had stopped pretending to wash the dishes and watched every move like a hawk ready to pounce.

Azriel swallowed audibly and shook his head. "No. No, thank you. It means…"

"It means that you're not hungry. That's all you needed to say. I'll just save it for later." She dropped the sandwich back in the basket and headed for the door. "I'll be down in minute. Just need to get the cake batter off my face. I'll worry about the stardust in my hair later."

As she skipped out of the kitchen and headed for the stairs, both males exhaled dramatically. Azriel collapsed on a kitchen stool and Cassian came over beside him, wiping his hands on a dishtowel.

"You could have accepted," Cassian suggested.

"What, and trick her? That's disgusting. She doesn't even know what it means," Azriel spat.

"Exactly, it was just an innocent offer. It wouldn't have sealed anything."

"So I would trick myself into thinking I had something I don't? That's not an improvement on my current situation." Azriel ran his hand over his face in despair.

"Maybe you should think about telling her. Let her make the decision for herself," Cassian offered gently.

"No! Absolutely not! She just started opening up, something like this would just scare her away. It would open old wounds that are only beginning to heal over. I won't do that to her just to make myself feel better." Azriel got to his feet abruptly and headed for the door. He poked his head outside to see if Kyla was ready yet then turned back to Cassian.

"Is Madja coming tonight?"

Cassian nodded. "Rhys went to see her and she'll be there when we talk to Kyla. She's not sure she can tell anything, but Kyla trusts Madja and she might be able to offer some reassurance."

Azriel clenched his jaw and nodded tersely.

"It's time to tell her. It's wrong to keep it a secret," Cassian reminded him carefully.

"I know. We've just come so far…I don't want to ruin that."

"Me neither."

Azriel left the kitchen to meet Kyla by the front door and they walked out of the house together.

* * *

Azriel and Kyla hurried through the streets of Velaris, the picnic basket swinging from Kyla's arm. Before they rounded the last corner Azriel skidded to a stop and stepped in front of Kyla.

"Wait, wait!" he said excitedly. "Close your eyes."

Kyla's eyebrows shot up. "You want me to close my eyes?" She tried to peer around him to see what he was hiding, but he threw open his wings to block her line of sight.

Azriel held his breath and nodded encouragingly, hoping she would trust him enough to allow him to heighten the surprise. Kyla looked back at his face and bit her lip slightly. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes tight. Azriel waved his hands in front of her to test if she was peeking then moved behind her and placed on his hands on her shoulders to guide her forward.

She flinched and her eyes flew open as she spun on her attacker. Azriel snatched his hands up and stepped back quickly.

"Sorry, that wasn't fair!" he said explained.

Kyla tried to laugh it off. "No, it's okay. I don't know who I thought it was. I just needed some warning, is all."

Azriel nodded solemnly and Kyla closed her eyes, turning her back to him once again.

"Is it alright if I put my hands on your shoulders to guide you forward?" he asked gently this time.

Kyla smiled and nodded. "Yes, that would alright. Since I will need your guidance to know where I'm going because I'm not peeking at all and might trip and fall because I do that even when my eyes are open."

Azriel chuckled, guiding her around the corner of the building and out on to the wharf. Kyla could hear ropes creaking and faeries shouting back and forth.

"Alright, open your eyes."

Kyla blinked in the sunshine and beheld a beautiful sailboat in front of her. It wasn't a shipping vessel but low and sleek with a single mast and two large sails. A handful of faeries were scurrying about the deck, coiling ropes, checking lines, and stowing equipment under hatches. Kyla's eyes traced the boat from bow to stern, taking in every detail of the vessel.

"It's a boat," she stated.

"It's a sailboat, and we have been invited aboard," Azriel clarified.

Kyla's eyes went wide as her breath caught. She looked from Azriel to the sailboat and back again like she didn't quite believe what he was saying. He leaned in close to whisper in her ear, "It's time to start dreaming again." Azriel took her hand and led her down a gangplank as the sailors cast off from shore.

"Welcome aboard!" called a short, stout faerie as he crossed the deck to them. Kyla's grin lit her face as she watched the activity around her.

"Captain Asher!" Azriel answered pulling Kyla's attention to the faerie who had called out to them. "Thank you so much for agreeing to take on some passengers on your practice run. Have you met Kyla?"

Kyla nodded at the faerie, feeling uncharacteristically shy.

"No, we haven't," he stepped up to shake Kyla hand. "Though my daughter won't stop building model bridges out of sticks and mud these days. She says she needs to practice for next year. I'm Asher," the faerie said warmly.

Kyla managed to find her voice. "Is this your sloop?" she asked in wonder.

Asher's eyebrows shot up as he looked to Azriel. "Milady, knows her vessels I see."

"Oh, I'm not a lad—"

"But alas, this remarkable piece of art owns my heart though I do not own hers. No, I have the honour of racing the sloop on behalf of my High Lady of Night. Until recently we raced on behalf of Lord Bael, but it seems ownership changed hands over a card game one night. Can't say that I approve of such high stakes, but I also can't say that I'm upset about the chance to fly Lady Feyre's colours in the race." The faerie grinned widely like he was sharing some inside joke with them.

"This is a racing boat?" Kyla asked keenly. "You're not a trader?" The ship was smooth steadily down the channel and out into the bay.

"No, no, no! No place to store any goods here. Low and fast, she goes. With just the mainsail and the jib to reduce the weight. Which is needed since I bring enough weight of my own!" He patted his belly as he let out a loud laugh at his own expense. The sailors around him chuckled too as they went about their work. "Been sampling too many of my own wares, I have," he added with a wink.

But Kyla didn't quite follow and looked to Azriel for clarification.

"This is Captain Asher's hobby. He's a baker by day, working out of the South Quarter," Azriel explained. "When Feyre won the ship from Bael, I sought out the Captain to insist on a inspection of the prize."

Kyla's eyes sparkled with delight and she quickly turned back to the Captain. "You're a baker? Have you ever worked with star—"

The ship suddenly heeled over, unleashing a cheer from the crew. Kyla gasped and lost her balance, lurching over to grab Azriel before tumbling down the deck.

"We're tipping!" she cried, as she clutched Azriel in fear.

Azriel held her tight and pulled her to the uphill side of the deck, holding on to the railing there.

"No, we're fine, it's okay," he reassured her. "It was just a gust of wind. If it's too strong the boat will turn into the wind to prevent it from capsizing."

Gradually Kyla eased her grip on Azriel as the boat leveled out slightly, and the crew adjusted the sails. Her eyes were wide as saucers as she tried to watch the wind in the sail, the rigging, and the rudder at the same time.

"Of course," she nodded. "Of course, that makes sense. The ballast in the keel would outweigh the mast, keeping it upright." She blushed furiously and gave Azriel a nervous look. "As you recall I'm not what exactly a strong swimmer, so I really don't want to go in."

The warrior actually laughed at that and squeezed her arm in reassurance. "Don't worry, the sailors have all been briefed. No fancy stuff, and they'll look out for you."

Kyla smiled sheepishly noticed the sailors glancing at her now and then, as if checking in to see that she was enjoying the trip, with Captain Asher shouting orders to keep them moving.

As they came around a point of land, Captain Asher moved over to them and held on to the rail as the wave action tossed the boat. "Are you ready for the next part?" he asked them with a glint in his eye.

Kyla nodded affirmative, a mixture of fear and excitement in her body language. "What do I do?"

"When I tell you, crouch low and move quickly to the port side of the ship. Keep your head down and watch for the boom swinging over. We don't want it to sweep you in for a drink. Grab on to the rail on the port side and lean back slightly," the captain instructed firmly.

Kyla nodded in understanding and licked her lips, tensing her muscled to dash to the far side of the deck.

"Prepare to come about!" the captain bellowed. The faeries had anticipated this and were each in position, clutching to ropes and pulleys, ready for the order. "Bring her about!"

The helmsman spun the wheel, turning the boat into the wind quickly. The deck was level for the briefest of moments and as Kyla and Azriel scrambled to the port side of the boat the boom-the large bar that ran perpendicular to the mast and held the mail sail taught-came whipping across the deck. The experienced sailors ducked automatically, hardly even noticing the deadly brush that would sweep off any careless faerie into the sea.

In a synchronized dance the faeries moved, pulling knots free and tossing lines to each other. Kyla grabbed the rail and leaned back as the motion of the turn brought the sails in line with wind and they began moving forward again.

Kyla actually let out a squeal with delight, a sound Azriel had never heard before. Her face was stretched with a grin as she squinted up at the sails.

"We're tacking Azriel! We're actually tacking!" she shouted into the wind.

"We're not being attacked!" he answered.

"No, TACKING. Sailing into the wind! The wind pushes on the sails at an angle but the keel in the water below counteracts the force. The only direction the boat can move is forward! If the boat is angled exactly, it can move upwind by zig-zagging back and forth! We're tacking!"

Azriel didn't understand anything she said but as usual her excitement was contagious. The sailors around them grinned as they secured the lines and the ship heeled over. Some of the larger faeries hooked their feet under a line and hiked out off the side of the boat, throwing their body weight into the empty air to keep the ship level.

"The wind doesn't actually push the boat but sucks the sail forward by the forces being exerted—" A large wave crashed over the bow, splashing water over them and eliciting a shriek of delight from the mortal. She ducked as another wave crashed over but her grin never faltered as she threw her face up to the sky.

"For someone who has never sailed, you have a surprisingly complete understanding of how it works," the Captain complemented her.

Kyla grinned back. "I read about it, in a book!"

Azriel shrugged his shoulders at the captain and laughed out loud. As they moved further out to sea the wind and waves picked up and Kyla would get knocked into Azriel at times, gratefully accepting his steady hand and secure body. She seemed perfectly at ease with their closeness and Azriel had to steady his own heart at her touch. The sailors adjusted the direction a few more times and came about again, before the Captain scuttled over to the pair hanging on to the rail.

"Would you like to try steering?" he offered.

Kyla's smile instantly turned to shock as she processed the offer.

"The helmsman will be there the whole time. All you have to do is hold on and follow her directions."

A smile of anticipation crept on to Kyla's face as she walked hand-over-hand along the rail until she reached the wheel. The helmsman showed her where to stand then switched over control of the wheel one hand at a time, staying close to offer her directions. All Kyla had to do at first was maintain the direction, cutting into the wind and adjusting slightly to accommodate the stronger gusts.

At one point she looked behind her and saw the shore distressingly far away. She glanced over to Azriel and the captain chatting amicably and to the helmsman to her side.

"How far out will we go?" Kyla asked warily.

The faerie just smiled and pointed out to something floating in the water in the distance ahead of them. "The wards only go as far as the buoy. Any further and we risk running into other naval traffic, and we certainly don't want to have to explain where we came from. We'll come around the buoy and head back to the bay."

Azriel had picked up on the concern in Kyla and watched as relief loosened her shoulders again.

"Ahoy!" shouted a sailor from the bow. "Lady Thea's ship to the starboard!"

Everyone looked over to see a similar sloop approaching quickly both sails stretched out fully to catch the wind.

"Oh really?" exclaimed the captain. "It seems the Lady Thea's crew think they have winds in their favour this afternoon! What do you say we show them otherwise?"

The crew took up a cheer and began frantically adjusting the sails.

"Prepare to come about!"

Kyla's eyes went wide. "What? No!" She turned to the helmsman. "You should take the wheel back!"

But the feary grinned at her and grabbed hold of a line. "You can do it, just follow my instructions!" she encouraged.

Kyla's mouth went dry as she gripped the wheel and adjusted her feet.

"Bring her about, Lady Kyla!" shouted the captain.

Kyla gritted her teeth and spun the wheel, muttering under the breath, "Still not a lady," as the boom snapped around.

She stopped the turn perfectly and the wind filled the sails. To the side, the competing vessel came about as well so they were perfectly lined up as they sped back towards the port of Velaris. The crew paid particular attention to the trim of the sails, fussing with the lines and trying to coax as much speed out of the vessel as they could. The helmsman gave her some small adjustments to capitalized on the angle and the captain shouted instructions.

Azriel took this all in but really just watched his mate, and felt another layer of ice melt away from the darkness inside her. He was torn between elation at her happiness and guilt for not having done this sooner. But if he was being perfectly honest with himself he had somewhat forgotten of the dream she had shared with him at the Cabin. Her only desire, should she ever escape that hell, was to watch a sail catch the wind, and it had taken him nearly a year to make that dream come true. He shook his head and bit back some frustration. _This should have been the first thing they had done_ , he thought. But she wouldn't have been ready for this trip in the fall, and then winter had come, and the trip to Day court had reset everything. But Feyre's fortuitous card game reminded him of the day Kyla had casted his shattered leg, so he sought out the baker to arrange the trip.

Now they sped back to Velaris, racing the Lady Thea's crew for pride and glory, and to the delight of his mate. Of course she had picked up on the subtler aspects of sailing immediately, her sharp mind noticing and remembering everything.

As the sailboats sped toward the harbour, smaller vessels moved out of the channel and a crowd began to gather on the bridge and by the docks. They were close enough to Lady Thea's ship to see their sailors moving about, good-natured grins on everyone's face.

The helmsman stepped up to Kyla and called instructions into her ear. "We're going to come about sharply to land at the docks! You have to wait until it looks we'll crash then turn the bow sharply so that we side slip into the berth! The crew will drop the sails immediately but it all has to be timed. You ready?"

Kyla shook her head. "I think you should take over! I don't want to crash Feyre's boat!"

But faerie just clapped her on the back and pointed in the directly she needed to steer the vessel. Kyla gripped the wheel, her whole body tense. With Azriel's limited sailing experience, he began to get nervous as they approached the docks at top speed.

"Captain…" he began, but the captain waved him off and kept his eyes trained on the sails and shore.

"Steady! Ready everyone!" he said calmly.

Azriel moved tentatively down the deck, standing just a bit closer to his mate. They were neck and neck with the other ship, both racing for the same berth at the dock. Expressions on the faces of the people at the dock changed from joy to concern as they began clearing the area, unsure that the vessels would indeed stop in time.

"Now!" cried the captain.

Kyla spun the wheel with all her might and the boom snapped around. As one, the sailors dropped the sails and threw lines to the dock to hold them place as the boat came to a stop, pointing directly into the wind. But in the heat of the race Lady Thea's crew waited too long and they bumped into Feyre's ship as they came about, scrambling madly to push away and avoid serious damaged. The collision rocked the boat enough to knock some of the crew over, including Kyla who lost her grip on the wheel and was flung to the deck. Azriel reached out to grab her as she slid past but he was just out of reach. His eyes went wide in sudden panic as he saw her slide to the edge, but it was the helmsman who latched on to Kyla's shirt and held her to the deck while the boat rocked back and forth until it found level.

When the boat settled and the captain confirmed all was well, a loud cheer roared up from shore as people flooded onto the dock to offer their congratulations. Lady Thea's ship moved off quickly and back out into the harbour, conceding defeat and waving good-naturedly back at the dock. The crew threw up their fists in celebration and embraced each other, clapping one another on the back in congratulations.

Kyla leapt to her feet and threw herself into Azriel's arms, jumping up and down at the thrill of victory. He squeezed her tightly then released her as he turned to shake the captain's hand. The helmsman scooped Kyla up into an embrace but as the other sailors approached to offer congratulations on the nail-biting landing her eyes grew wide at the sight of males circling her. She stepped closer to Azriel, her smile wavering slightly and he subtly shielded her from the overwhelming celebration. Instead, she shook the sailors' hands, thanking them for the thrilling experience.

The captain was on shore shaking hands with his fans, a mug of ale already in one fist. The crowd pushed in close and Azriel saw no way of them clearing the docks without getting uncomfortably close to so many people. In a flash decision he bent and scooped Kyla up, leaping into the sky above the dock. This dramatic exit sent the crowd into a tizzy and they clapped and cheered as the Illyrian and mortal flew off.

The sun had set by the time Azriel landed on the street in front of the townhouse, gently placing Kyla on her feet. She swayed a bit grabbed the fence, her eyes wide.

"What's wrong with ground? It's tilting!" she exclaimed.

Azriel let out a loud laugh. "It's your sea legs. You adjusted to match the waves but now that you're on solid ground, your brain needs a moment to re-calibrate."

They both stumbled up the walkway to the front door, giggling like partiers returning from the bar, as the ground titled underneath them. Kyla pushed open the door laughing as she stumbled into the foyer and found Feyre leaning on the doorway, watching them with a smile on her face.

"Feyre! We went sailing on your new boat! And we raced Lady Thea's crew and beat them at the last second, but then we nearly crashed and broke everything but don't worry we didn't and I got to steer, even when we were landing and we went way out into the sea around the ward-buoy and Captain Asher said he wants to win the Falling Star Cup this year for you and I'm so hungry I could fall over but there certainly wasn't time to eat and Azriel-I forgot the food basket on the boat we'll have to get it tomorrow—and I really need a glass of water."

Kyla finally caught her breath and saw that Rhys had come up behind Feyre ushering them into the sitting room. Kyla collapsed into a sofa chair and Mor dropped a huge glass of water in her hand as Cassian got the full report from Azriel. Kyla gulped the water down and then sighed, suddenly noticing some tension in the room. Then she saw Madja sitting in the armchair, smiling at her broadly with a cup of tea in her hands.

Kyla sat up straight in surprise. "Madja, I didn't see you there!" She looked over to Azriel with annoyance and rolled her eyes. "It's just a few scrapes, nothing Feyre couldn't fix." She twisted her elbow around, looking at the split that had opened when she hit the deck.

Madja just chuckled and flicked her wrist, closing the cut immediately. "I'll think you'll live." But her smile didn't quite meet her eyes and even in her excitement Kyla picked up on it. Her smile faltered slightly and she turned in her seat, taking inventory of the people in the room.

"Not that I don't appreciate your company, but is anything wrong? Is someone hurt?" Concern edged her voice as she looked around for an explanation as to why the powerful healer was paying them a social visit. She tried to meet Azriel's eye but he looked away, unable to bear her stare. Rhys stepped up to Madja's side, his hands casually in his pockets.

"Kyla, we invited Madja here to maybe help us answer some questions." Rhys hesitated before going on. "We've learned something from Ferrik that you need to know."

Kyla clamped her jaw shut and stared at the empty space between Rhys and Madja. She nodded and then rose quickly, walking over to the side table to fill her glass with water again. As she gulped it down Azriel sensed the anxiety coming off of her. He was sure they all could, as Feyre carefully put an arm around Rhys's back, and Cassian shifted uncertainly. Mor chewed on her lips and looked out the window, a knot growing in her stomach.

"Alright," Kyla said finally. "What did he say?" She remained standing, clutching the water glass, a slight tremor in her hand.

Rhys cleared his throat. "He didn't say as much but we've made some deductions, which is why we have so many questions still. It's the timeline…the sorcerer ordered him to start looking for you just before the Aegian wars." Rhys glanced up at Azriel. "Those wars were a long time ago…centuries…which could mean that you have lived in the Cabin for more than two hundred years."

Kyla stopped breathing, her whole body rigid. Unblinking, she shook her head once then turned as though to walk out of the room, but only made it one step before the glass slipped from her hand and her legs crumpled underneath her. The combination of a lack of food, the sea legs, and the shock of the information had sent her over the edge.

Azriel lunged forward and caught her before her head hit the ground, and Mor quickly vanished the broken glass and water on the floor. Madja calmly but quickly rose from the armchair and crouched beside Azriel as he held the mortal in his arms.

"Kyla! Kyla, wake up!" he said with panic, brushing the hair from her face.

Madja reached over and placed her hand on Kyla's forehead. "She's fine, just a little lightheaded. That news was a bit much after a long day. She should have had some dinner first."

But Azriel was not so easily reassured. He looked between the healer and the mortal frantically. "What's happened? What should I do?"

Madja cocked her head suspiciously. "It's one of the body's natural defense mechanisms. It was overwhelmed with stimuli and shut down to protect itself from the onslaught."

In his concern Azriel wasn't hearing Madja's words clearly and continued to whisper to Kyla, asking her to open her eyes.

"She fainted, that's all," Madja repeated calmly. Then she sat back on her heels and studied the pair carefully. Her body sagged slightly and she began to understand his overreaction. "Oh Azriel, when did this happen?" She had picked up on the mating bond that Azriel couldn't hide after such an emotional day. Azriel didn't answer but clutched Kyla to him as she began to stir.

"Here, sit her up and give her some fruit juice. We want the sugar into her system quickly." Mor handed Madja a glass and she pressed it to the confused mortal's lips, encouraging her to drink before she was even fully conscious.

Kyla drank the juice automatically and opened her eyes, trying to clear her head. "What happened?" she mumbled.

"You're okay, it's just been a long day," Azriel said soothingly.

Cassian stepped into her line of sight and peered down into her face. "Actually, you're better than okay. You're a two hundred year-old human and look damn fine for your age!"

The whole room froze in shock at Cassian's crude joke knowing that Azriel holding Kyla tightly was the only thing keeping him from killing his brother on the spot. Kyla blinked rapidly, calling the memory back and processing what had happened. Then a small smile came to her face.

"I don't look a day over one hundred, do I?"


	42. Faerie Wine

**Chapter 42-Faerie Wine**

Madja closed the bedroom door gently behind her and nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw the entirety of the Inner Circle of the Night Court standing in the hallway of the townhouse. Azriel started to speak but Madja grabbed him by the wing and pulled him down the hall and away from Kyla's bedroom.

"Did you think I was going to sneak out the back way?" she hissed at him.

Azriel just whimpered as the healer dragged him by his sensitive wing, the rest of the Inner Circle following abashedly. They filed into the sitting room and Mor made some much needed drinks appear. The tension of the evening had worn them down and they each leaned back in their seats, ready to receive Madja's diagnosis. All except Azriel who paced the room impatiently.

Madja accepted a drink as well, and perched on a soft stool in the centre, feeling the weight of all their hopes on her shoulders. She took a long swallow and sighed.

"I have been treating the members of this court for centuries. I have seen wars, plagues, miracles, and tragedies. But somehow you manage to continuously surprise me," she said straight to Rhys. "A High Lady that has been Made by the powers of all the courts? A two hundred year old human? An Illyrian bonded with a mortal?" she pursed her lips and gave Azriel a cutting look, even though she knew he couldn't help it. Azriel paused in his pacing long enough to blush and look away embarrassed.

"I can't give you the answers you're looking for," she added sadly. Azriel watched her face closely, and Rhys watched Azriel. "She has so many scars-both on the outside and the inside—that it's nearly impossible to age her."

Azriel groaned and turned his head away, tears welling in his eyes. Anytime he was reminded of Kyla's torture his shadows swirled around him angrily and his face strained in anguish and rage. Mor stepped up quickly placing her hands on his face and pulling him back from despair. She whispered to him quietly while Madja went on.

"She's an adult female and in fine fitness. Excellent condition, especially if you consider all the past injuries. But I won't be able to tell if she's ageing normally for several years. I don't know if she reached this stage slowly over the centuries, or if she reached maturity then ceased to age."

It was Cassian who stepped up to ask what Azriel was wondering, but couldn't bring himself to say. "So we don't know how much time is left?"

Madja shook her head and gave them a sad smile. "Just enjoy every day you have. I can't tell you how many will be left." She made eye contact with each of them to ensure the message was hitting home. Then she sighed deeply, rising and stretching her back. She began collecting her bag and things while some of the most powerful faeries in Prythian learned how powerless they really were. Before Madja left the room she turned back to them, commanding their attention one last time.

"The same should be said for each of you," Madja added pointedly. "With your lifestyles, your immortality is far from guaranteed. Enjoy every day you have, for you never know what tomorrow may bring." She walked out the front door and left them in silence.

* * *

"Happy birthday!" everyone cheered as they clapped and shouted. Kyla and Cassian presented the cakes with a flourish, placing one each in front of Nuala and Cerridwen. The twins were awkwardly seated at the dining room table, having enjoyed an evening of being doted upon by the Inner Circle of the Night Court. They had insisted it wasn't necessary, but everyone considered them more than just employees—they were part of the family. They had been Under the Mountain with Rhys and seen some of their darkest moments and greatest joys. This day was for them to celebrate.

"Cassian made this one for you, Nuala, and I made Cerridwen's cake," Kyla explained. "He made me promise not to tell you—"

Cassian quickly through a Siphon shield over Kyla's mouth, preventing her from spilling his secret. Kyla's eyes went wide in surprise but then folded into crescent moons of laughter as she crossed her heart that she wouldn't tell on him. Cassian made a gesture that said she was dead-meat if she reneged and reluctantly lowered the shield.

"Not to tell you how much love and caring he put into making this cake!" Kyla finished with a smirk to Cassian. He just stuck out his tongue at her and began cutting slices and passing them around.

Kyla cut Cerridwen's cake and handed it out as well, everyone wanting to sample both. She casually lifted a plate to Azriel, holding it out for him to take while she kept her eyes on the cake for the next slice. When he didn't take the plate she glanced up at him expectantly.

"Do you not want a piece?" she asked innocently. The conversation around the table continued but there was a strain in the air as each faerie kept an eye on the exchange of food between the mortal and the Illyrian.

Azriel stepped back and patted his stomach, grimacing. "Ah, no. Thank you. I'm just so full from supper."

Kyla gave him a funny look. "Said no Illyrian ever. I'm trying hard to not be insulted that you won't try my cake." She looked around the room at the others who were listening in. "Am I really that bad of a cook?"

Rhys came to Azriel's rescue. "Not in the least. I would, in fact, like a second piece of your cake, so I'll take that!" He grabbed the plate and grinned at her. Kyla just shrugged and cut another piece.

Mor decided a topic change was needed and came over to the twins. "So what are your big birthday plans?" she asked, stuffing a piece of Kyla's cake in her mouth.

Nuala and Cerridwen glanced at each and then back at Mor and the others in the room. "Well, we were thinking a night out at Rita's would be fun. Drinks and dancing, you know. Would anyone like to join us?"

Mor clapped her hands in delight. "I would love to! Feyre, Amren: say you'll come too!" she ordered her friends.

Feyre groaned and slumped in her chair. "I can't, I'm sorry. Rhys and I have to go this thing in the Hewn City. I'm sure it will be awful, but it'll never get any better unless we start _making_ them better. I'm sorry, Nuala. I'm sorry, Cerridwen," Feyre begged the twins.

"Me neither, I'm afraid. I have some things to tend to before my trip tomorrow," Lucien added.

Mor rolled her eyes in disgust and looked across the table. "Amren?"

"I just don't want to," Amren said pointedly, no apology in her voice.

Mor grimaced and tried to gloss over her unwillingness to participate in the celebration of the birthday females.

"I'd like to go," Kyla piped in. There was only the slightest hesitation before Mor leapt to her feet.

"Brilliant! Just the four of us! It'll be a blast!" she exclaimed.

"Four? What about us?" Cassian asked indignantly. He turned to Azriel in mock-horror, "It's like we don't even exist. Just pieces of meat to be used when needed!"

But Azriel wasn't playing along. His shadows swirled around as he battled internally over how to proceed. He wasn't a fan of the dance club but the idea of his mate being propositioned by other males made his blood boil. But Kyla wanting to get out and enjoy things in life again was something they had all been working towards since the attack in Day. Her wanting to go to Rita's was a good thing, he reminded himself.

With a pained smile he met Mor eyes and nodded. "I'd like to come too," was all he could manage to say.

In the warm summer evening the group made their way down the Rainbow and into the club, already loud with music and fun. They found a booth to the side and ordered some drinks, catching up with other faeries they knew and plying Nuala and Cerridwen for stories of their childhood. Just as their cups began to run dry, Kyla returned to the table with a platter of fresh drinks and began handing them out.

"So I've made a decision!" she announced to the table. "I've decided it's time to try the infamous faerie wine!"

Mor and Cassian laughed out loud while Azriel tried to cover up his trepidation.

"I'm not sure in the middle of this dance party is where you want to do that. Feyre said it's a bit over-stimulating as a human," Mor explained with a grin on her face.

Kyla nodded and then shrugged. "Well, I didn't want to lose my nerve, so I already finished a glass at the bar." She then grabbed the glass in front of her and chugged it back in one gulp.

The whole table sat in shocked silence for a breath then burst into whoops of laughter and cheering. Cassian clapped her on the back and motioned to the server to bring another round, while Mor collapsed on Kyla's shoulder in laughter. Only Azriel didn't seem impressed with the display of bravado.

Kyla easily joined in the laughter, the faerie wine over taking her senses. Thousands of lights exploded within her, illuminating the dark corners of her mind. She laughed easily with her friends and relaxed into the evening. It wasn't long before Mor pulled her to the dance floor and Kyla didn't hesitate. She moved freely with the music, letting it fill her veins and set a pace for her beating heart. Cerridwen joined them as Nuala met up and chatted with a friend.

Cassian returned to the table with more drinks but Azriel sat gripping his half finished glass, trying to look like he wasn't staring at the females on the dance floor. Cassian glanced from him to Kyla and back again. "Are you alright with this or do you need to leave?" Cassian inquired.

"Why wouldn't I be alright?" Azriel said too quickly. "She's enjoying herself. Who am I to say what she can or cannot do?"

Cassian's eyebrows shot up. "No one. You never get to say that, even if she had accepted the mating bond. She would be your equal and her own person. I'm asking if _you_ are male enough to handle that. I don't need you pulling a Tamlin here…"

Azriel snarled at his brother. "Would you stop comparing me to that monster?! I would never do that to her!"

"Well when you get protective over something that doesn't belong to you, you start looking awfully similar!" Cassian retorted.

"She's a person, she doesn't belong to anyone!" Azriel snapped.

Before Cassian could reply a kerfuffle broke out on the dance floor. Two males were fighting each other, wildly swinging and punching with drunken accuracy. One faerie ploughed into the other, crashing through crowd and knocking others aside, including an unsuspecting human. Kyla slammed to the ground and lay still in shock for a moment, but that was all it took to set an already edgy Azriel off.

He surged to the dance floor with a roar and grabbed the offending male by the throat. Cassian was right behind him wrenching on Azriel's shoulders to pull him away. Mor threw one punch and knocked out the other faerie in a single blow then latched onto Cassian and Azriel and winnowed them out of the bar to the street outside.

"Get a grip on yourselves!" she shouted at them.

Azriel shoved Cassian away in frustration and made to go back in the bar but Mor planted herself between him and the door and gave him a cutting look. "I think you're done for the night," she said firmly.

Azriel gaped at her. "I'm not leaving her in there!"

"She's just fine. Dancing and having a good time. She got knocked over by something entirely unrelated. She's so drunk on faerie wine I doubt she'll even remember it in morning," Mor said calmly but firmly.

"That is not reassuring!"

"Come on, Azriel," Cassian urged. "Let's take a walk." He gripped his brother's arm firmly and began to pull him back. Azriel glared at Mor but gradually allowed Cassian to move him away.

Mor watched them move up the street and then returned to the bar, pausing at the entrance to centre herself. Her eyes swept the room looking Kyla and the twins. Cerridwen was leaning on the bar chatting with a male and Nuala dancing with friends on the floor, but no auburn haired mortal in a summer dress was in sight.

Mor sighed. "Shit."

* * *

Kyla's head spun as she scrambled to her feet and cleared the dance floor. She felt her body for some kind of injury as she dreaded having to tell Madja she couldn't even safely dance without getting hurt. But her arms and legs were still attached and the dizziness had more to do with the faerie wine than anything else. She blinked and tried to focus on the room, searching for a familiar face. She found Nuala sitting with a male in the corner and started her way, but the male leaned in for a deep kiss and Kyla quickly switched course to avoid interrupting them. Instead she walked face first into another male and stumbled again.

"Whoa there! Are you alright?" he asked with concern, reaching out as if to steady her, but stopping just short of making contact.

Kyla shook her head and rubbed her eyes. "Yes, fine. I'm totally fine. Better than fine, actually," she rambled.

The male gave her a questioning look but smiled a little. "Then why are swaying back and forth like you're on a ship?"

Kyla grinned. "That would be where the 'better than fine' part comes in."

He chuckled at that. "I think you might need some air. Would you allow me to escort you outside?" he asked gently.

Kyla took a deep breath and exhaled through her lips. "Yeah, I think that would a good idea. Some air would be nice. It's hot in here. Stifflelingly. Is that a word? I don't think that's a word, but it should be, because it's an appropriate description of how hot it is in here." She turned and looked for the exit, but the room spun and lights seemed suddenly blinding.

"This way," the male indicated. He pointed across the room and as Kyla began to walk he subtly guided her forward with a hand hovering by her lower back.

The summer night was warm but compared to the oppressive heat inside the club it felt refreshingly cool. Kyla inhaled deeply and lifted the hair off the back of her neck as they distanced themselves from the club. When she opened her eyes and the lights of Velaris danced all around her, sparkling off the water of the Sidra. She smiled contently, mesmerized by their patterns and shapes.

"Would you like a glass of water?" someone said beside her. Kyla jumped a bit, unaware that she had company, but then remembered it was the male from inside the bar. She giggled sheepishly and accepted the glass.

"Thanks. I was just admiring the beauty of Velaris. I haven't been many places or seen other cities, but I can't imagine how any of them could measure up against this." She swept her free hand wide as though revealing the scene to an audience. The male nodded in agreement but his eyes stayed on Kyla's face rather than the landscape.

He stepped forward and smiled a little nervously. "I hope this isn't too forward, but I know who you are and I've wanted to meet you. I'm Callum."

"Really? I mean, it's nice to meet you, Callum," Kyla stuck out her hand to shake his and he gave it a firm squeeze that lingered a bit.

Callum laughed again, as if surprised that this plucky mortal didn't realise her reputation preceded her. "It's nice to finally meet you too."

"So what were you hoping we'd talk about when we met, Callum?" Kyla prompted. She took a gulp of water letting the cool liquid sooth her throat. The water tasted delicious but it was the faerie wine that gave her the courage to stand here and talk with this fae male. She let the feeling wash over her, pushing aside her normal wariness and caution.

"I was just hoping to get to know you a bit better. It's not everyday a mortal ends up in the Night Court, far from the Wall-that-Was, not to mention in the good graces of the Inner Circle," Callum explained. Somewhere in the distance warning bells rang out in Kyla's mind, and she nearly turned her head to hear them better. The wine had plastered a smile on her face so the conversation continued regardless.

"Well there's not much to tell, but maybe we can chat while you walk me home?" she asked innocently.

"I would be honoured," Callum replied. He held out his elbow for Kyla to take but she glanced back at the club.

"Hold on, I had better tell someone that I'm leaving. They can be a little…" she waved her arm through the air in dismissal. "Anyway, I don't want them to go looking for me."

Kyla stepped back into the club and scanned the room for her friends. At the same time she racked her brain trying to remember how she had ended up on the patio to begin with. _I got knocked over; there was a fight._ Cassian and Azriel and Mor had been there, but then they were gone. Kyla frowned and tried to get her human eyes to adjust to the darkness in the club. She saw Cerridwen chatting with some friends and waved at her, pointing to the door to indicate she was leaving. Cerridwen nodded and gave her the thumbs up that she understood, and Kyla went back out to the patio where Callum was waiting.

"All good. Shall we?" she said, and headed for the gate to the main street without waiting for his response or taking his arm.

The pair walked slowly up the street, chatting amicably and in no particular hurry to be anywhere. The summer night air kept them warm and the brilliant stars of the Night Court filled the sky.

"So were you out celebrating this evening?" Callum asked.

Kyla nodded, watching the street in front of her. "Yes, it was Cerridwen and Nuala's birthday. They're half-wraiths who work closely with us. With them. With the High Lord-" she took a breath. "They're good friends." Her head was swimming and coherent sentence structure was a challenge.

Callum chuckled at her drunken ramblings. "That's really sweet of you to take them out for a night of fun."

"Well I think we're doing a pretty poor job of it, since everyone has now left. Though the twins didn't seem too bothered by it when I last saw them!" Kyla giggled to herself again, smiling in the company of this stranger. "Though where did Mor and the males go off to? I don't remember them even leaving…"

Kyla paused in street and looked behind her back towards the club. She frowned as she searched her memory for the answers but the faerie wine just filtered everything into a swirling rainbow of colours and emotion.

Callum stood in front of her and peered down into her face, close enough she could smell the drink on his breath. "Don't do that," he criticized her.

Kyla's breath caught in her throat at his change of tone. "Do what?" she whispered.

"Don't frown like that. Your face is so beautiful with a smile, a frown doesn't belong there," he explained, leaning a bit closer.

Kyla's eyebrows raised slightly as the frown disappeared and a small smile crept in. She bit her lip slightly. "Beautiful?" she breathed.

"Yes, beautiful. Hasn't anyone ever told you that before?" Callum chuckled.

"You mean, for a human?"

"No, I mean: just beautiful." He leaned in closer still as Kyla stood rooted on the spot. No one has said that to her before. She lived in a world full of devastatingly gorgeous people and she had never considered herself to be anything more than plain. It only led to self-hate for a human to try to compare herself to a fae. But this male who didn't know anything else about her had said she was beautiful. The thought made Kyla feel light inside, like an internal fire had been stoked.

Her heart beat faster, a physiological response to the male's closeness, she noted. It was a chemical reaction. She knew this because she had read about pheromones and instincts in a book on fae anatomy. She had read many books, because she enjoyed learning new things. She was smart and clever and enjoyed helping the people of Velaris and the Night Court. Her intelligence was one of her greatest strengths and something she was quite proud of. She could tell Callum about some of things she had invented. He hadn't asked her about her hobbies or her job. He didn't know anything about her, but except that her face was beautiful when she smiled.

Kyla took a step back. "Thank you, for saying that. That's a nice thing to say."

Callum blinked in surprise and straightened. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

Kyla shook her head and turned back up the street. "Nope, what would be wrong?"

"Well I—I just thought…"

Kyla knew exactly what he thought. She was drunk, not clueless. She did live in a world full of beautiful people and her human features could not compare. It was an empty compliment meant to woo her. She shook her head trying to clear her mind though the faerie wine prevented her from feeling sorry for herself too long. A small giggle escaped her lips when she thought of how this male assumed one sweet word was going to win her over.

"What's so funny?" he asked trailing behind her slightly. "Are you laughing at me?" He sounded slightly hurt, and that unfortunately made Kyla laugh even more. She was leaning against a lamppost when she saw movement up the street and a pair of Illyrian warriors walked up to them.

"Azriel! Cassian! There you are!" Kyla shouted with glee.

As her friends approached an immediate tension filled the air around them, though Kyla didn't notice or acknowledge it. As the males sized each other up, Kyla launched into introductions, happily describing the night and how much she had enjoyed herself.

Azriel just nodded to the High Fae but Cassian immediately stepped into diffuse any potential conflict. He cheerfully shoved his way between the two males and clapped Callum on the shoulder, deftly moving him slightly further from Kyla.

"I was just walking Kyla home," Callum explained nervously, his cocky confidence withering in the presence of the warriors.

"Home?" exclaimed Cassian. "But the night is young! Come friend, let's head back. I'd like to buy you a drink!" He jovially pulled Callum down the street, the latter glancing over his shoulder back at Kyla and Azriel, but unable to come up with an adequate reason to turn down Cassian's offer.

Kyla giggled again at his expression and waved farewell. "It was nice meeting you!" she called after them, then turned to Azriel with her hands on her hips. "Well, since your brother has denied me my escort, I guess you're going to have to step up!"

Surprise filled Azriel's face when she comfortably slid her arm under his and hooked his elbow. All tension washed away as Kyla grinned and leaned her body into him ever so slightly.

"What a fun night," Kyla sighed. "I needed a fun night. More fun nights needed!" she proclaimed to the street around her. Azriel even chuckled a bit and tightened her arm in his.

"How much faerie wine did you drink?" he asked as they started walking up the street.

"Apparently just the right amount! It's absolutely magical, _and_ I didn't fall for any tricks and empty flattery. A good balance, I think." She sighed and looked up at the lights of the Rainbow.

"What are you talking about, 'tricks and empty flattery'?" Azriel inquired, ire growing in his chest.

Kyla waved it off and chuckled. "Oh nothing. Just Callum saying my face was beautiful like I was going to swoon right there in the street at the compliment. Please! Beautiful? I am many things, but a rare beauty is not one of them. I mean, he didn't even say anything about my witty charm and stunning personality!" Kyla laughed at her self-deprecation and staggered a bit, using Azriel's arm to keep her on course.

But Azriel didn't laugh at her joke and instead steadied her shoulders between his hands and looked her straight in the eye with deep concern on his face. "Who told you you weren't beautiful?"

Kyla blushed and looked down at the street, away from his intense stare. "No one said that. But I have eyes…I live with, you know, Feyre and Mor and Elain—by the Cauldron have you seen Elain?—and I see how males are drawn to them. Females too, for that matter. They command a room!"

"Kyla don't compare—"

"Oh I don't care! It doesn't bother me, it just…is a thing…that they have…and I don't," she said matter-of-fact. "It doesn't matter…"

Azriel gently tilted her chin up so she was looking him in the face. "You are beautiful," was all he said. He didn't try to interrupt her ramblings or provide counter arguments to all her examples. He didn't deny the beauty the other females carried with them, but focused entirely on the human before him.

Kyla's breath caught in her throat as she stared back at Azriel. "But it's not what matters…" she whispered.

"You are beautiful in your way. The way Amren is beautiful for things that make her Amren and Mor is beautiful _despite_ her looks. You are beautiful because you're smart, and funny, and brave, and resourceful, and so kind to others—even kind to that daft male back there who thought he might have a chance," Azriel explained, never taking his hand from her chin.

"A chance at what?" Kyla breathed. She was lost in Azriel's eyes. The light of Velaris shone too brightly for her to look away and she wasn't sure she was still breathing.

"At kissing you," Azriel whispered as he leaned in close. He hesitated at the last moment, stopping just short and giving Kyla an out if she wasn't comfortable. But Kyla leaned in and closed the gap, meeting his lips with hers.

The kiss was tentative, so gentle, allowing each of them to grow comfortable in this zone without pushing it too far.

It ended naturally with each pulling back slightly and catching their ragged breaths. Neither spoke for several moments, Azriel not wanting to wake from this dream, and Kyla at a loss for words for once. The silence stretched on for too long, and Azriel grew concerned he had crossed a line.

"Was that…alright?" he mumbled.

A smile came to Kyla's lips as her eyes sparkled and she nodded softly. "See? More good nights needed."


	43. Nightmares

**Chapter 43-Nightmares**

The entire house slept late the next day, and Kyla couldn't hear any movement by the time she cracked her eyes open. For a minute she lay in bed, taking in the sunshine and going through the night's events in her mind. She replayed everything, ensuring that it hadn't been a dream. The kiss from Azriel had been an unexpected surprise, but one that she didn't regret for a minute. She mused over the kiss while she washed and brushed out her hair, trying hard not to read into it too much. She didn't want to be one of those vapid females that over-analysed every glance or comment from a male. She sometimes joined Mor and Feyre on lunch dates with those females and found the whole conversation extremely dull. But Azriel's kiss had certainly given her something to think about.

Kyla bounded down the stairs expecting to be late for breakfast but found the dining room empty, the dishes and food all cleared away.

"I didn't sleep _that_ late," she mumbled defensively, then wandered down the hall to the kitchen. She poked her head in and found Nuala chopping fruit on the centre counter while Cerridwen perched on a stool, her head resting heavily on one hand and the other clutching a mug of tea.

"Good morning!" Kyla chimed as she skipped into the room and plunked herself down on another stool.

Cerridwen merely waved a hand in the air but Nuala glanced up from her chopping and gave Kyla a warm smile. "Good morning to you too! You seem awfully chipper this morning. Didn't get carried away with that faerie wine?"

Kyla shrugged and reached for the pot to pour herself a cup of tea as well. "Not too carried away. Unlike my friend Cerridwen here," she grimaced at the half-wraith who couldn't seem to keep her eyes open. "You're looking a little worse for wear. Why don't you just go back to bed?"

Cerridwen sat up straight and blinked, trying to wake herself up. "No, I can manage. I did this to myself, I will suffer the consequences."

"Did this to yourself? It was your birthday, you shouldn't feel guilty about letting loose. I certainly don't, and it wasn't even my birthday!"

Nuala chuckled and slid a bowl of salad in front of Kyla as if she had known the human would arrive just in time for her to finish chopping the fruit. Kyla thanked her and dug into the bowl like it was her first meal in days.

"When is your birthday?" Nuala asked cautiously.

Kyla just shrugged and looked down at the fruit in her bowl. "I don't know."

The wraiths glanced at each other uncertainly, Nuala regretting bringing it up. "Well if you don't know then we can just pick a date. Any date you'd like."

Kyla looked around and considered the proposition. "I guess so…it should be a good date, you know? Have some meaning…"

"Well it seems that a good date would be when you brought Azriel back to us. That was the day you were born in our world, so we can make that your birthday," Nuala suggested.

Kyla looked between the twins and nodded appreciatively. "Yeah, I think that sounds good!" She continued to munch on the fruit salad while she considered this. At the end of the summer it will have been a year since they escaped the Cabin and crashed into the back patio of the townhouse. So much had happened over that year, she had seen and done so much. The good and the bad.

Azriel had said sometimes he wished they were back at the Cabin, away from all the politics and danger that was to be found in the real world. She didn't blame him for thinking that because it was just the idea of the Cabin that was appealing. But he had seen the reality and knew that nothing was worth living in that hell again. Kyla shook her head to clear the dark thoughts away and looked back up to the twins.

"Where is everyone?" she asked with her mouth full.

Nuala has cleaned the fruit off the counter and brought over a plate of toast for Kyla. "Feyre and Rhys stayed over at the Hewn City, and Azriel, Cassian, and Mor joined them first thing this morning. Something urgent I would guess, considering Cassian and Mor were not looking impressed with the summons. Azriel seemed in an unusually good mood though…" She gave Kyla a sidelong glance but didn't say anything more.

Kyla's face flushed and she took a bite of toast, opting to change the subject instead of elaborating on the possible causes of Azriel's cheery morning. "I'd like to see the Hewn City someday. The books say it's a marvel of architecture, untouched by the elements and undamaged by wars. It must be fascinating," she said wistfully, staring off into space as she pictured the underground city.

Cerridwen just huffed and took a sip of tea while Nuala pursed her lips and began pulling down ingredients to mix something up.

"What I don't understand is how the residents there are not all pale and sickly from the lack of sunlight. How do they manage it?" Kyla wondered aloud.

"Magic," Cerridwen mumbled with her eyes closed, head resting once again in her palm.

"Magic, of course. The cause of and solution to all of life's problems," Kyla nodded. Cerridwen groaned and lowered her head to the table and the human looked at her sympathetically. "Except that."

* * *

Rhys stood by the windows of his study with his arms crossed, scowling at the beautiful summer day. It was the kind of day where people should take off work early and go to the beach. Children should be playing in the park and fathers teaching their daughters to fish off a bridge while mothers and sons coax a kite into the sky. These nice thoughts deepened Rhys' scowl. Azriel should be taking Kyla on a date to enjoy such a day, maybe buy ice cream or take in a street concert. He shouldn't be standing on the patio, figuring out how to tell his mate she needed to relive her nightmares for everyone to hear.

A message had reached them while at the Hewn City that there was to be a final trial to determine Ferrik's fate. They had requested—no, summoned—Kyla to give testimony as to his crimes against her. Rhys had nearly blown out the side of the mountain, and Feyre not far behind him, when he heard this. _As though attempted murder in front of half the High Lords of Prythian wasn't enough to prove him guilty._ But Helion wanted to put him down rather than be burdened with his eternal imprisonment and Beron insisted Ferrik had been drugged and controlled by the sorcerer when he committed the crime. They wanted to know his past crimes in order to determine his fate.

Azriel had insisted he be the one to tell Kyla, and he thought it kinder to tell her alone. Tell her that she had to walk back through the courtyard where her blood had been drained; tell her that she had to face the male who had tortured her for centuries; tell her that she had stand in front of powerful males and relive what she had endured for their benefit. Rhys had shown them scenes from Ferrik's mind, and now they wanted to compare Kyla's story to ensure it lined up before sentencing the son of a High Lord to death. The nightmare Rhys had found in Ferrik's mind made him wonder if it was even worth it to put Kyla through this. He even contemplated not telling her of the trial and letting Ferrik go free, just to spare her the agony. He would kill Ferrik at a later date, and Kyla would never have to know he was out there.

Now Rhys watched Azriel watch Kyla as she read a book in the summer sun, stretched out on a patio chair in a light sundress, enjoying the day properly. Rhys could practically see Azriel's heart break as his mind worked through what he was about to say. He was stalling, Rhys could tell, giving Kyla just a few more minutes of peace before the darkness she had pushed away came crashing down on her again. Azriel took a deep breath and Rhys let out a low groan when he saw his brother wipe away a small tear before stepping up to the patio chairs.

As usual, Kyla was so focused on her book she didn't hear Azriel approach until he lowered himself into the chair beside her. Or maybe she did hear him, as she didn't seem startled when he arrived. She looked up and a warm smile immediately came to her face as her eyes lit up with delight. She kept her finger on the page but closed the book and let it rest on her lap.

Azriel said something Rhys didn't hear, and Kyla let out a peel of laughter that shimmered through the summer air. Azriel tried to chuckle too at his own joke, but his eyes held only sadness.

Kyla said something in return with a giggle and Azriel couldn't help but smile at that, nodding his head in agreement.

Then he pulled the chair closer to her and leaned like he was going reach out, but instead ran a hand through his hair and swallowed deeply, his jaw clenching tight to hide his anger.

Kyla was blissfully innocent, but not stupid. She saw the tension in his body, noticed his posture. She sat up and swung her legs off the side of the patio chair, resting her feet on the ground, nearly touching knees with Azriel. Rhys watched Azriel struggle some more, shaking his head in despair. Then he saw Kyla reach over with the hand that wasn't holding the spot in her book, and place it gently on Azriel's knee. It was an intimate gesture he had not seen from the human before and for the first time Rhys had hope for Azriel's love of Kyla, that she might return his affection.

When Azriel finally found the words to speak Kyla's hand didn't leave his knee. Rhys couldn't hear what he said but Kyla's whole body tensed and she sat so still Rhys wondered if she continued to breathe. The book slipped from her hand and fell to the ground, pages crumpling and folding at random. Azriel took her hand and held it between both of his, trying to gently reassure his mate.

Kyla blinked and nodded, her chin trembling as she tried to maintain control. She asked him a question, he answered.

Then she seemed gather herself. She straightened her back and squared her shoulders, clearing her throat and reaching down to pick up the fallen book. She said something and pointed over her shoulder. Azriel looked relieved and nodded. They rose in unison and walked off the patio towards the street, hand-in-hand.

* * *

"Is everything in place, then?" Rhys inquired. Mor, Cassian, and Azriel sat with the High Lord of Night around the table, a sketch of Helion's castle in front of them.

"There are limited staff around, and only those who have been on long-term," Azriel reported. Trusted, he implied.

"We'll place extra wards around the apartments and all the food will be checked, or we'll use our own stores," Mor added.

"I don't want us depleting our magic procuring feasts. The food can be tested, and we use magic for monitoring and defense," Cassian insisted.

Rhys nodded in agreement. "If anything is amiss, we leave immediately. Don't try to regroup; someone grab Kyla and Cassian and winnow anywhere but there."

Cassian frowned. "Does Kyla know about the round-the-clock personal guard?"

"She does and for once didn't have any objections," said Azriel. "She's put on a brave face, but she's nervous."

"How did she handle it when you told her about the trial?" Mor asked.

Azriel paused for a moment and called back to the sunny afternoon early that week, but it felt like a lifetime ago. She hadn't screamed or cried or begged for a way out. "She asked me a few questions, what the plan was, and then we walked down to the river and watched the boats for a while."

"She asked me yesterday what she should do to prepare, but other than that hasn't really talked about it," Rhys added.

Azriel looked at his family around the table. "If Kyla doesn't testify then Ferrik will go free?"

Rhys nodded sadly. "It's not guaranteed, but I can't see it going any other way. And even with her testimony…"

Cassian reached over and put a hand on Azriel's shoulder, looking at his brother seriously. "I hope he goes free," he said. That elicited a snarl from Azriel. "I hope they free him so I have the pleasure of being at your side while we hunt him down, slowly, carefully, making him live in terror until he begs us to end him."

Azriel locked eyes with Cassian and accepted his vow, but it left with him a feeling of unease. Was his Illyrian blood-lust being dampened by the mating bond? No, he still wanted Ferrik to suffer, but he couldn't shake the disquiet that settled in his chest. Fear was tingling up his spine and his shadows swirled angrily around him.

"Az, what is it? What do you sense?" Mor asked with concern.

Before he could answer Feyre rushed through the door, dressed only in her night clothes. "Azriel, you should come—"

"It's a nightmare," Azriel finished and rushed out the door, taking the stairs two at a time. Before he reached her door he could hear the moans coming from inside and sounds of her thrashing. He opened the door quickly and calmly approached the bed where Kyla was twisting and screaming, anguish in her face.

The light from the hallway poured across the bed, casting cruel shadows on his mate's features. Azriel perched carefully on the edge and leaned in, holding a hand out to block her flailing arms. He tried calling gently to Kyla at first, hoping he could pull her out of the nightmare without shocking her out of sleep. When she didn't respond he reached over and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. The contact ripped her from the dream and she screamed and lashed out. Azriel blocked the blow but her other arm knocked into the bedside table sending the lamp and books crashing to the ground. He latched on to both arms and pulled Kyla into his chest as she screamed and sobbed.

"It's okay, it was just a dream, you're okay, you're safe," he whispered repeatedly.

Kyla stopped struggling and instead clutched his shirt, weeping into his chest. "Please don't make me go…I don't want to go…please don't make me…I can't do it again…I don't want to…I can't breathe…" she cried, gasping the words between her sobs. Azriel rocked her slightly and rubbed her back, murmuring reassurances. Feyre made eye contact with him above Kyla's head to see if he needed anything, then left him to calm the mortal down. She crept out of the bedroom, pushing back the crowd that had gathered by the entrance, giving them a stern look for intruding.

"What are you staring at? Give her some privacy!" she hissed.

"You can't blame us for rushing in. You've been known to set the bed on fire when you have a nightmare!" Cassian retorted before shutting the door quietly behind him.

Kyla clutched the shadowsinger and cried until her throat was hoarse and her eyelids heavy again. Eventually exhaustion overtook her and she began to droop in his arms. He moved to lay her back on the pillow but she continued to cling to his chest, resting her head under his chin.

"Would you mind staying...for a bit?" Kyla whispered hopefully.

Azriel's heart was in his throat, he struggled to speak. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, trying to keep the waver out of his voice. "Of course not."


	44. The Trial

**Chapter 44-The Trial**

"Will he be in the room? Will I have to…will he…how…" Kyla swallowed and looked down at her hands. She sat with Rhys and Feyre on the sofas in the same apartment they had stayed during the first visit. Cassian, Azriel, and Mor were scouting the castle, suspicious of everyone and generally making any members of the Day Court too terrified to even approach the suite. Kyla had no interest in exploring or visiting as she had when they came last time, but instead sat meekly on the couch, her knees brought up to her chest with arms wrapped around them.

Feyre squeezed Rhys' hand before he answered. "Yes. He has the right to face his accuser. But he'll be in shackles, under guard, not to mention that Helion, Thesan, and Kallias will be there too."

Kyla nodded and looked out the window, her expression blank.

"We'll be there too, Kyla," Feyre tried to reassure her. "And Cassian, Mor, and Azriel in the gallery."

Kyla's expression didn't change leaving Feyre wondering if she had even heard. She refused to make eye contact with the High Lord and High Lady, like a sullen adolescent being reprimanded.

"I'm not wearing a dress," she said defiantly. "If he…if something…if…" She blinked back her tears, swallowing her fear before going on. "I will be able to defend myself. A dress gets in the way."

Rhys leaned forward to look her in the eye. "That will absolutely not happen. He'll be mist before he even gets close."

Kyla unfolded her knees and stood, looking down at Rhys and Feyre. Her face was stony, hard like the life she had lived so far.

"Yes well, the best laid plans…"

* * *

In a cruel twist of fate, the trial occurred in the ballroom where they had once danced the night away. The ruling lords who had been there that evening sat in a semi-circle with other members of their courts and families standing in the room behind them. Azriel, Cassian, and Mor hovered around Kyla giving menacing looks to anyone who glanced her way. Kyla shifted nervously on her feet, fidgeting with the hem of her jacket and flinching under the stares and whispers of the crowd.

A commotion sounded across the hall and Ferrik was led into the room, shackles clanging noisily echoing off the stone walls. He was crudely shoved into a chair to one side but sat back casually, like he couldn't care less what happened today. He looked better than the night of the ball, though that wasn't saying much. His face was sallow still and his hair greasy and unkempt. The gash on his face has finally been closed but a messy scar had been left behind. His clothes were disheveled but his eyes were clear as the weeks of being clean of whatever drug had been destroying his body were good for him.

Kyla stood behind one of Cassian's wings, peering out at the male that had caused her so much pain for so long. She was snapped out of her trance by Helion calling the room to attention, explaining the purpose of the trial at this time. Before he could even finish, Beron stood up from his seat and called out to the crowd.

"We call the mortal Kyla to the front. Explain to us how you think it was my son who visited your home all those years," he sneered.

A loud snarl erupted from Feyre and the Siphons ignited on both Illyrians. Rhys schooled his features cold as ice and put a hand on Feyre's knee while Mor put her hands on the shoulders of her brothers. Kyla took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before stepping out from behind the members of the Night Court and approaching the centre of the half circle, facing the rulers.

It was everything she could do to keep her knees from shaking as the crowd shifted to get a better look. She looked to Rhys and Feyre who nodded subtly and smiled in encouragement.

Helion spoke to her gently, trying to make her comfortable as well. "Kyla, do you recognise the male over there? Have you seen him before?"

Kyla glanced over quickly and then back to Helion. She nodded once, "Yes."

Helion waited, indicating she should go on.

She took a deep breath. "He would come to my house, uninvited, whenever he wanted." She was about to go on, but stopped herself and instead looked down at the floor and swallowed again.

"If he was uninvited, why did he keep coming to see you?" Helion prodded. Azriel shifted almost imperceptibly, his hands clenched at his sides.

"He wanted me to go with him. He said it was his task to find me and bring me back, though he never said to where."

"Why didn't you go with him?" Kallias asked.

Kyla met his gaze, trying to understand the tactic, see his endgame. "I would have. I thought he was there to rescue me. But the place where I lived was cursed and I was a trapped there. When he…when Ferrik realised this he became angry and told me to fix it. But I couldn't, I didn't know how." She stopped, praying they wouldn't ask what happened next.

"And where was this supposed cursed home of yours exactly? You're telling me that a son of a High Lord couldn't defeat a simple spell?" Beron spat menacingly.

Kyla winced and took several calming breaths before addressing the High Lord of Autumn. "I'm not telling you that at all. Your son did eventually break the spell, but not before coming back for me, again and again."

"Back where? Where is this magical place you claim to have lived?" Beron retorted.

Kyla locked eyes with him briefly then looked back at the space above the crowd. "I don't know," she growled through clenched teeth. A murmur broke out in the hall and Helion called them back to order.

Kallias twisted in his chair to scowl at Beron. "Why don't we ask Ferrik since he travelled there so often?"

Beron didn't back down. "My son is not on the stand right now, a mortal child who is too stupid to even know where she lived is there." Grumbling filled the room and Helion rose.

"Beron, the purpose of this meeting is to uncover the facts, not throw insults and opinions around. If you cannot keep your tongue under control you can leave this trial, and this Court, while we determine if your son lives or dies," Helion ordered with authority. Beron cocked his head in silent acquiescence, but smirked at the rest of the rest of them.

As Helion took back his seat and silence filled the room again, Rhys cleared his throat to speak. His face was anguished like he was pleading with Kyla to forgive him for what he had to do.

"Kyla, what did Ferrik do when he thought…when you couldn't leave with him? How did he react?"

Kyla saw in his eyes that hadn't wanted to ask the question, but in order for Ferrik to be put down they needed to hear how cruel he was, how twisted his soul had become and see what he had done. Kyla nodded to Rhys, trying to tell him that she understood why he asked what he already knew. Her body felt numb, like it usually did after an assault. The room spun before her and she closed her eyes briefly until the dizziness passed.

"He beat me." She opened her eyes to see every face in the room locked on to her. She straightened her back slightly, keeping the waver in her chin under control. "He punched my face until the blood soaked my shirt. When I lay on the ground he would kick my stomach and chest, breaking my ribs." Kyla voice caught in her throat, and she blinked back tears at the memory.

Beron only scoffed and looked away. "It's not hard to break a human," he grumbled and Ferrik even snickered at that.

Darkness exploded in the room then faded as the terrified faeries stared at the High Lord of Night who was glaring at Beron. "It's not hard for me to invade your pathetic Court and enslave its people, but that doesn't make it right," he said coolly, slowly reeling in his small demonstration of power.

Beron looked at the others, furious that they let Rhys get away with the open threat. He rose to his feet sputtering. "So what? So some mortal girl loses a fight with a faerie and now he's put to death? Is this what we can expect from our relations with the humans now that the Wall has fallen?"

"One time he broke all my fingers," Kyla said stone-faced, loud enough to interrupt the squabbling. "One by one. I screamed at him to stop, I begged him for mercy, but he kept going, demanding I tell him how to break the spell. But I couldn't tell him what I didn't know."

Someone tried to interrupt. "Kyla, you don't have to-"

"Other times he tied my hands to a tree and whipped my back." She held her hands up to her face and twisted her wrists around, looking at the scarring that was still evident there. "He never even asked me any questions. He said it was my punishment for disobeying him."

The crowd was growing restless, grumbling passing between them, even shouts for justice at the back. Ferrik began to look nervous and Helion stood and turned to the room, ordering silence once again.

Through the cacophony Kallias leaned forward and called out to Kyla. "How often? You said 'other times', how long do you think Ferrik did this to you?"

The air was sucked out of Kyla's lungs and the room felt impossibly small. Panic filled her body and she looked to Rhys and Feyre for the answers. Feyre bit her lip and glanced at Rhys, both unsure how to answer the question.

Kyla looked back to Kallias and said meekly, "I don't know."

Kallias looked confused but Beron jumped all over it. "You don't know? If your memories of my son are so vivid and clear, how can you not know how frequently he did this? If he even did this at all, it's just your word against his!"

Kyla bit her lip and shook her head searching the room for help. Rhys was on his feet shouting at Beron and Helion was ordering him to sit down. Kallias was trying to get Feyre's attention and apologise for bringing it up, and Cassian and Azriel were fuming so much that people had begun to move away from their dangerous Siphons.

In a sudden impulse Kyla unbuttoned her jacket and pulled it off, revealing a halter-top shirt, low cut down the back to keep one cool in the summer. She turned on the spot and showed her scars to the room, the slashes rippling across the tense muscles of her toned back. The room fell silent immediately, all eyes locked on the evidence that she had been tortured. Tears escaped her eyes and she wiped them away before turning back to the High Lords.

"I don't know how many. He did this…often," she stated stoically.

Beron was fuming but silent and ice crept down the chair where Kallias sat as he gripped the armrests tightly.

Helion nodded gently and met Kyla's eye. "Thank you, Kyla. You can step down for now," he said, his voice filled with remorse that he had let it get this far. Kyla moved out of the circle quickly, and quietly stepped into Mor's open arms. She embraced Kyla tightly while Cassian took her jacket and held it open for her to put back on. Behind them Helion spoke again.

"Ferrik Vanserra, how do you answer these charges?"

Ferrik huffed and stood up slowly, his posture showing nothing but disdain for the lords around him. "This is just more evidence of the untrustworthiness of humans. She's obviously confusing me with another High Fae. Don't we all look the same to humans? She may have scars and tears, but not from me. I had never seen her before she was paraded around the Day Court like some kind of cute pet."

The room exploded into chaos as Azriel leapt through the air and landed directly on top of the shackled fae, both hands clamped around his neck.

* * *

Feyre had seen this kind of rage from the Illyrian before when had exploded on Beron during a meeting before the war with Hybern. People were screaming and running throughout the room, scrambling to get out of the way of the swirling mass of shadows and fury that surrounded the fighting males. Cassian looked to Rhys and Feyre for an order on how to proceed. He wanted to let Azriel kill Ferrik, he wanted to help, but the knew the political ramifications if that happened. His mind raced as he tried to decide if he cared.

The High Lords were standing and shouting, power swirling around them. Mor stood close to Kyla, her eyes darting around the room anticipating that someone would use the chaos as a distraction. But when Azriel's temper had slipped and he had attacked Eris all those years ago, it had been a cold, dark rage. The scene unfolding now was feral fury, careless and uncalculated. He didn't even put up a shield and Beron's fire slammed into him knocking him off of Ferrik. Azriel rolled to his feet ignoring any pain he might have felt from the burns on his arms and wings. He didn't miss a beat, coiling his muscles and roaring for Ferrik again. The guards stepped in to grab him but he knocked them away with half a thought. He reached the High Fae again and began slamming his fists into Ferrik's face.

Kyla stood rooted in the ground, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes. "What is Azriel doing?" she screeched at Mor.

"Killing him, I hope," Mor responded through clenched teeth.

Feyre shouted at Azriel, trying to get his attention while Rhys blocked the fire flying out of Beron. The temperature room in the room plummeted as Kallias tried to cool everyone's tempers but neither Cassian nor the guards could control Azriel's instinct to defend his mate.

Out of the corner of her eye, Feyre saw Kyla dart under Mor's arm, heading straight for the fight. Mor snatched her hand out to grab her but only got a piece of her unbuttoned jacket and Kyla easily slipped out of it before running over to Azriel. The human ran into the melee, shoving a guard aside and grabbing hold of one of Azriel's sensitive wings to get his attention. Azriel snarled and spun without looking and slammed his fist into the offender. Kyla's head snapped back and her body crashed onto the frozen marble floor, sliding on the ice that had formed there.

It was though Feyre could feel the impact in her own body. Now she understood why Azriel resisted the mating bond with the mortal, why they had conspired to keep the secret. Azriel was Illyrian, not half, full-blooded. He was cool and calculated but deep down his instincts could still take hold and the wild animal could escape. He was worried about control when Kyla was around, the mating bond overtaking rational thought. If an accident such as this happened an Illyrian female, even a High Fae female, would be less at risk. But Kyla's humanity made her so fragile.

Feyre thought the room had gone silent but really it was just the roaring in her ears that had blocked out the sound. Azriel had stopped attacking Ferrik when he realised what he had done, giving the guards the opening they needed to pin him down. Feyre saw him screaming as the guards dragged him away, Rhys stalking behind shouting at them to release him. She saw Ferrik sneering as he staggered to his feet, still in shackles, wiping the blood from his face. Beron was hollering profanities at anyone who would listen, Kallias and Helion bellowing back. She saw Cassian pushing off some guards who thought he was also attacking Ferrik. Then Mor brushed by her, running to Kyla's body on the floor, her exposed back turning white in the freezing temperatures. Like a switch had been flipped the sound came rushing in again.

"Cover her up before she gets frostbite!" Helion ordered. Kallias looked over sharply and snapped his fingers, instantly removing the ice from the floor. Mor knelt over Kyla holding her head gently and speaking to her soothingly. Cassian came over and scooped her up, his lip trembling as his hand gripped her scarred back.

Feyre came over to them and gently placed her hand on Kyla's forehead. "Let's get her back to the apartment. I'll deal with the headache when she wakes up." She straightened her shoulders and faced the High Lords with her chin out. "I would like to request a recess," was all she said before stalking out of the room.


	45. I want you to stay

**Chapter 45-I want you to stay**

Kyla gasped and her eyes flew open. She sat up sharply making the room spin and pain shot up her neck landing solidly in her temples. She groaned and grabbed her head, leaning into the back of the sofa where she had been lying. She felt the cushions shift beside her as someone sat down.

"Kyla it's Morrigan, I'm right behind you," and with the warning Kyla didn't flinch when Mor gently placed her hand on her back and rubbed comforting circles. Kyla took deep breaths trying to push the pain away from her face. "Rhys is in front of you, he can stop the headache if you're ready."

Kyla nodded and winced again, keeping her eyes squeezed shut. Rhys put his hand on top of Kyla's auburn hair and eased the pain away. Her breathing evened out and she blinked to clear her eyes. She looked up from the sofa back and saw the concerned faces of her friends staring back at her. Her friends minus Azriel. She glanced around the room quickly.

"Where is he? What did he do?" she whispered.

They glanced at each other awkwardly, unsure what to say.

"They locked him up for the moment," Rhys explained gently.

Kyla's eyes went wide in concern. "Not underground! In a dungeon? He can't take that! It's just like his father's cell!" She began to move off the sofa but Mor held her hand firmly.

"He'll be alright. He just needs a moment to calm down," Mor reassured.

"What will happen to him? What will they do?"

Rhys got up from the sofa and walked to the table, poured a glass of water and brought it back to Kyla. "I'm not concerned. Helion has bigger problems right now. He'll leave him there for the day to prove a point, but it's too much trouble to keep him. Azriel could escape in a heartbeat, but I told him to stay to play along." He didn't say that Azriel wanted to stay in the cell, far away from Kyla and the damaged he'd done.

Kyla sipped the water carefully considering this. "Is it over then?"

Cassian lurched to his feet and stomped across the room in frustration, while Mor reached over and put her arm around Kyla's shoulders giving her a reassuring squeeze. Feyre shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "Not quite. They want to resume after supper, privately. The room will be closed to everyone but the rulers."

Kyla looked at her quizzically, confused as to why the rules would change suddenly. She didn't like being paraded in front of the faeries of Day Court but she wanted to them to see, she wanted them to know what happened to her, what could happen to other humans who have no defense against the fae. It's why she had agreed to come even after the horrific nightmare, when she sobbed and begged Azriel to not go. The following morning, when she woke curled up on his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her, they spoke quietly of the dream and the pending trial. In that comfort and safety Kyla's courage returned and she resolved to share her story so that the precedent could be set. So that the faeries would know that attacking a human was still a crime.

But in the end it had been Azriel who couldn't take the interrogation. Watching the distress in Kyla's face, the shaking in her body, as she recalled that trauma had been too much for him bear.

"The beating wasn't enough for them? My throat split open and blood soaking the gravel was confusing? What else could they possibly want to hear?" she spat, fear turning to anger as she thought of the evidence that had been presented and how they still didn't believe her. Feyre looked away and Rhys rubbed the back of his neck in frustration. The tension in the room told her enough. They wanted to know about the assault.

Kyla controlled the urge to vomit. "Why don't they just ask Azriel? He saw it, he was there. One time at least. Is that not enough?" she asked shakily.

Rhys shook his head. "That's how they even know about it. Azriel tried to convince them but Beron claimed that he was too sick to properly remember. That it was probably just a dream if he wasn't even strong enough to get out of bed. Plus…he never saw Ferrik's face. Technically it could have been someone else."

Kyla was aghast. Now she knew. She knew the outcome of this trial had already been determined and this was just for show. They would never convict the son of a High Lord on the word of a human. Ferrik would go unpunished, and she would be constantly looking over her shoulder for him for the rest of her life. For him or any other fae who decided to take what he wanted. There was no justice, no protection for the meek in Prythian. It was ruled by faeries; instinct, might, and survival of the fittest were the only things that mattered. She began shaking slightly. The others thought it was in fear, but it was in rage.

"Kyla, no one is denying that terrible things happened to you, not even Beron. They're just trying to prove that it was Ferrik who did it," Feyre explained.

Rhys continued. "There's no way to place him at the Cabin. The lack of time reference means that we can't pinpoint the changes in him or when he was away on his travels that he was really with you. The fifty years Under the Mountain…was just a time for you. The drugs shredded his mind making it impossible for me to pull out facts from fantasy and show the other lords, yours is unconsciously shielded, and Azriel never fully saw him. It's a mess." He blew out sharply from his mouth, running his hand down his face.

Kyla shakily got to her feet and stood for a moment then nodded in resolution. "I think I'll go lie down, rest for a bit." The others didn't say anything as she turned and walked out of the sitting room. She shut the door behind her gently and pressed her back against it, looking around her bedroom in the fading daylight. Her mind raced as she built her plan, committing the details to her well-trained memory. She didn't need to rest, she needed to take action.

* * *

A commotion sounded in the living space of the apartment suite. Angry words were exchanged and doors slammed open and shut. Kyla cracked open her own door and peeked outside. She saw Azriel storm into his bedroom with Cassian on his heels, while a dozen armed guards crammed in the front hall. Rhys was speaking tersely with Helion who was shaking his head forcefully.

"Rhysand, I'm not discussing this anymore. You and I know both know why he can't be in the trial, and I don't want him in the dungeons so close to Ferrik. I will not put my Court at risk of war with Autumn because Azriel couldn't control his hormones," Helion said forcefully.

Rhys put his hands up in agreement and nodded. "Alright, alright. Cassian and Mor will keep him here while we finish up tonight. We'll all leave first thing in the morning."

Helion waved his hand through the air in dismissal. "Just…tell him to take a flight and sort himself out. We're starting immediately; I'll meet you in the ballroom." He spun on his heels and marched out of the suite taking the guards with him but leaving half a dozen stationed in the hall outside.

Azriel stormed out of his bedroom wearing his leathers and weapons and looked around the room quickly. "Is she alright?"

Mor came over. "Yes, she's fine. She was concerned about you being locked up."

Azriel shook his head in frustration. "Of course. Never thinking of herself." Then he turned on Mor. "But you! How you could you let her get that close? You said you would protect her!"

Mor looked him admonishingly. "Azriel…she's a independent woman. I can't stop her when she puts her mind to something!"

"I could have broken her neck!" he shouted.

"No, you couldn't have," Cassian stepped in. "The blow was an accident, and you stopped as soon as it happened. You could never have hurt her intentionally."

Azriel brushed him off heading for the balcony and dark night beyond. "It was too close."

Kyla made her decision and quickly ran back into her room, grabbing a packet from her bag. Outside she heard a knock on the outer door and a voice reminding them it was time to go back to the trial. Rhys growled and asked Feyre to wake Kyla from her nap, while Cassian continued to try to reason with Azriel on the balcony. Before Feyre reached the bedroom, Kyla ripped open the door and flew past her, darting through the living space and out to the balcony where Cassian and Azriel were arguing.

Azriel picked up her scent immediately and spun to face her, taking a cautionary step back. Cassian tensed, his eyes darting between the human and his brother. He was torn between giving them some privacy and staying close to prevent another 'accident'. Kyla ignored him completely and stepped closer to Azriel, her breath short as she bit her lower lip. Azriel was frozen on the spot, trembling slightly.

"If you're going flying, you'll need to keep your energy up," Kyla said shakily. She held out the packet in front of her. "I made some energy bars. They're full of nuts and fruit and some sugars for quick power. Here, take it."

Cassian backed up and looked away awkwardly, trying to disappear from the balcony. Azriel shook his head and backed up another step, his lip trembling as his face contorted. "I can't take that from you!" he said painfully.

"Yes, you can. I made it just for you. I didn't make one for Cassian. Just for you," Kyla said forcefully, waving the packet in front of him again.

"No! No, I can't. You don't know what it means to give me this! It's too much…I don't have enough control!"

From inside Rhys called out to her that they needed to leave immediately. Kyla glanced over her shoulder, then looked back at Azriel sharply. "Do you not want it? Do you not want this food that I made for you?" she nearly cried.

"Kyla, I do. I can't tell you how much I do. But you need to know something. It's a faerie thing. To give me this food…you don't know what it means," he faltered and looked into her eyes pleadingly. Rhys called out again.

Kyla took another step forward, pushing the energy bar closer and held his stare. "I know _exactly_ what it means!" she said tersely.

Azriel collapsed to his knees and slowly reached to take the food from Kyla's outstretched hand. Trembling violently he cupped the packet in front of him like a sacred jewel. Before he could say anything Kyla bent down and planted a deep kiss on his lips. She pulled away quickly and whispered in his ear. "Find me. When this is over, promise you'll find me."

Azriel squinted at her in bewilderment and reached for her hand but it slipped from his grasp as she spun and fled the balcony to the High Lord and High Lady, waiting to escort her to the final trial.

* * *

Kyla could hear only the sound of her own breathing in her head, echoing off the chambers of her mind. She felt as though she had left her body and her spirit was floating above the room looking down at the semi-circle of lords staring back at her. The detachment was likely the only thing that kept her standing. Everything felt numb like she had no control over her limbs anymore.

She had been standing in front of them for an hour, describing in painful detail how a High Fae had violated her. At first the High Lords were shocked into silence, then discomfort. In search of distraction, Helion at one point leaned over and suggested to Feyre that she could excuse herself; that this topic was not something a lady should have to hear.

Fury poured out of Feyre's body at the comment. "Do you think this is news to me, High Lord Helion?" Feyre snarled. "You males might be blind to the harassment, the insult, the innuendo and degrading comments we face _everyday_ but to hear the details of what a male would do to a female who denies him is not a surprise to me." She glared at each of them in turn. "I'm sorry you're so uncomfortable with learning about what females have had to endure for millennia."

Rhys added to her angry glare while also reaching out and calmly placing a hand on his mate's knee, willing her to reign in her temper. _Helion is not our enemy,_ he reminded her. Feyre just huffed and turned her head away.

Silent tears ran down Kyla's face but still she stood and refused to crumble under their scrutiny.

Beron shook his head in disgust. "You have still given us no proof that it was my son who did this. You're probably being bribed by that animal over there to deliver false accusations. Autumn has always been the enemy of Night."

Rhys didn't take the bait and sat stone faced. "Have we heard enough to make a decision on this?"

Beron snarled at him. "I don't know, you tell me. You seem to have this story all laid out already." He turned back to Kyla. "Tell me, human, what _else_ do you feel like pinning on my son? What else did he do to you?"

Kyla looked at him in defeat, her shoulders sagging as the fight drained out of her. Feyre had seen enough.

"What else? You want her to share more, to relive every detail of that torture?" she screamed at him. The room darkened as her power seeped out, only to be lit by the fire that grew around her. "Is rape not enough for you? The sick, twisted pleasure he got from hearing her scream not convincing?"

Helion got to his feet as well, countering Feyre's darkness with his own light of Day. He was getting tired of being bullied in his own Court. Kyla backed away from the angry faeries and turned to make for the door, but Beron threw up a wall of flames blocking her path. She spun to get around the flames and instead ran right into Beron himself who had appeared at her side.

He grabbed her arm and dug his fingers in painfully. "Where do you think you're going, you little vixen? Running back to the animals of the Night Court? You probably open your legs for anyone, even my traitor son who lives there."

The accusation was wild enough to give Kyla pause and it took her a moment to realise he was talking about Lucien. Fire turned to steam as Feyre dowsed the flames and Rhys stalked forward to pull Beron away. Kyla snatched her arm back but leaned in close to the High Lord of Autumn with a smirk on her face. "He is not your son!" she spat before stepping through the steam and making for the door.

The evening session of the trial ended in the same chaos as the previous one. Power surged through the room as the rulers flexed their muscles and let their tempers slip, the shouting and demands lost in the cacophony. Ferrik was laughing madly as they dragged him away once again while Beron demanded he be released immediately. Kyla pulled open the door only to find a crowd of people waiting on the far side, anxious to hear the outcome.

Kyla balked at the sight of so many faeries blocking her path and she stepped back into the ballroom, unsure where to go. Mor pushed her way through the crowd and wrapped her arms around Kyla's shoulders, noting the red eyes and tear stained face. Mor moved her through the crowded hall, ensuring the faeries kept their distance, but Kyla resisted and pulled instead to the door of a restroom. Mor made to follow her in but Kyla put out her hand to stop her. "Can you just give me a minute?" she asked.

Mor looked at her with concern but nodded and instead stood guard by the door. Soon Helion came to the hall and ordered everyone to clear away, the visiting lords taking their retinue with them. Feyre and Rhys found Mor standing with her arms crossed, glaring at all those who passed by. At their approach Mor turned and knocked gently on the door, cracking it open slightly to peek in. "Kyla, how are you doing in there?"

She saw the human standing in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection catatonically. She didn't react to Mor's call but continued to stare at her reflection as if lost in a trance.

"Kyla why don't we go back to the apartment and decompress? We can go home in the morning," Mor proposed soothingly. She came into the restroom and tucked Kyla under her arm again, directing her back into the hall. Kyla didn't acknowledge nor resist and allowed the fae to guide her through the castle hallways surrounded by a painfully silent High Lord and High Lady.

When they arrived back at the suite Feyre offered to heat up some tea but Kyla didn't even acknowledge her and went straight into her room and lay down on the bed. Mor shut the door quietly behind her. Feyre sat down abruptly on a sofa chair and Rhys eased himself down beside her.

"That was…horrific. Why did we agree to do this?" Feyre whispered.

Rhys shook his head and stared into space. "It's my fault. I pushed for a trial…I wanted to start giving Lesser Fae and humans some sort of process they could follow to seek justice against mindless criminals like Ferrik. Start letting go of the old ways where a single person gets to decide the fate of others on a whim. I should have never let it get this far…"

Mor placed stiff drinks in both their hands and sat down across from them. She held her own drink for a moment then tilted her head back and downed it in one swallow. "What did the lords decide?" she asked after a moment.

Rhys huffed and leaned back on the sofa, arching his back and looking up at the ceiling. "We all know what will happen. Tomorrow morning we'll come together formally and Ferrik will be handed over to Beron, ordered to be on his best behaviour and never set foot in our Courts. House arrest, essentially."

Mor growled under her breath. "So Kyla was right all along."

Feyre looked at her questioningly. "What do you mean?"

"She knew nothing would come of this. She can read a room better than any of us and she did the math long ago. And while she hoped that Ferrik would be put down, she's too smart to think it would actually happen." Mor looked at Rhys pointedly. "You know she actually told me she would not execute Ferrik if she were in your place, Rhys? That as High Lord it would be poor leadership for you to take your Court to war over a single crime? She's too smart for her own good…"

Rhys closed his eyes and grimaced. "Queen Kyla, indeed. Maybe the sorcerer is on to something."

After several drinks relaxed them Rhys and Feyre headed to bed but Mor stayed up, waiting for the males to return from their flight. Kyla didn't emerge from her room all night, and Mor couldn't pick out any sounds from within, not even muffled crying. She paced the room for a while, walking out to the balcony to check the skies. Azriel would be destroyed by this outcome and concern settled in her stomach like an angry knot. She wanted to try to talk to him first, before the others were around. But the males didn't return and soon Mor's head felt too heavy to carry, so when she rested it briefly on the sofa, she quickly fell asleep.


	46. Truth or Dare

**Chapter 46-Truth or Dare**

Azriel and Cassian flew for a long while that night before finding a rocky a shore by a quiet lake and put down for a bit. Both males jumped in the water to rinse off the sweat then built a quick campfire of driftwood, the flames lighting up the cobblestones of the beach.

"The stars are brighter in the Night Court," Azriel observed casually.

Cassian nodded in agreement. "I think that's Rhys' doing. He's got a thing for the stars." He poked the fire with a stick and then handed Azriel a flask he had tucked away. Azriel took a swig and passed it back.

"So, are you going to eat that?" Cassian asked without looking at his brother. Azriel was holding the packet of food Kyla had prepared for him, but he hadn't opened it yet. He stared into the flames, hypnotized by the burning embers. Cassian looked over at Azriel and added, "What are you waiting for?"

Azriel took a deep and breath let it out, his eyes never leaving the flames. "What if what happened today is just the beginning? What if we're out somewhere and another male touches her and she steps in the middle of it…"

Cassian threw the stick on the flames and rose to add more wood. "I'm getting a little tired of you hiding behind your Illyrian blood," he stated calmly. Azriel's eyes snapped up and narrowed at his brother. "You are not the wild beast you pretend to be when it's convenient. Kyla has seen the camp where we grew up and she knows what you are. She's probably read every book ever written about Illyrian history and traditions so there's no way you can tell me that she doesn't know what she's getting into."

Azriel jerked his head away and looked out over the lake. "You're not listening to me. It's not her, it's me that's the problem!"

Cassian was moving beyond annoyed to angry. "No, you're not listening! She is the only person who has been able to push away those shadows you hide behind! You're just so determined to be miserable you refuse to accept that she might be right for you. What is your problem!?" he shouted. "It's just like with Mor! She made it clear she wasn't interested and yet instead of moving on, you pined after her for centuries, like you took some sick pleasure in playing the heartbroken male and dragging the rest of us down with you!"

Azriel leapt over the fire and smashed his fist into Cassian's face. Cassian took the blow and delivered one in return, needing to release his own rage just as much. The two scrambled and fought in the firelight on the beach while only the stars looked on.

Azriel gasped for air as he swung and kicked. "What if…what if it's not me she really loves? What if I'm just the first person she met?" he panted.

Cassian growled in frustration. "Then lucky you!"

"What if I can't protect her?"

"She's not looking for a shield, she's looking for a partner!" Cassian grunted as he took a punch to the stomach.

"What if she is a queen and can't be with an Illyrian?"

"What if she's not? What if she's no one and you didn't dare take a chance to be with her because you're afraid of the unknown? Afraid of something you can't control?"

They rolled on the beach wrestling, each landing punches in turn and grabbing the other, panting heavily and sweating.

"What if she dies?"

Cassian stopped and pulled away, swearing at the night sky. "Is that what you're afraid of?" He shook his head and ground his teeth. "We're all going to die, Azriel. You're a soldier, you know this! She could die tomorrow, or in fifty years, or in five hundred. Does that mean you don't want to be with her today?"

Azriel said nothing but clenched his fists at the ready to keep fighting. "What if I die?"

Cassian snarled and leapt on him again, throwing his punches in wild abandon. He was done having this argument with a child. Azriel was searching for excuses and Cassian didn't know why, so he fell back on his preferred technique of beating it out of him.

When they were both battered and bloody they collapsed to the stones simultaneously, gasping for air as they stared up at the night sky.

"How did she know?" Azriel finally asked.

"Cauldron, you really are daft. It's Kyla! She's smarter than the rest of us combined. She probably figured it out before you did," Cassian hissed, still laying on his back on the beach.

Azriel lay still as his breathing returned to normal. Then he rolled over and reached for the packet of food that had been dropped on the stones. "I don't know what to do next."

Cassian sat up as well and rolled out a sore shoulder, wiping some blood off his lip. "It think when it comes to that particular mortal, never make any assumptions. She's one surprise after another." He got to his feet and walked over to the lake to splash water on his face and took a long drink. He looked back and saw that Azriel still hadn't eaten the food, but had at least opened the package.

Tears fell down his face. "She can barely stand my touch. How will we…how can we…"

Cassian clenched his jaw and sat down abruptly, pulling out the flask once more. "That…will be something you'll have to work out together. She is your equal and she made her own decision, you're not forcing her into anything. She came to you and accepted the bond, knowing full well what that means. Because being a mate is about so much more than sex. It's a partnership, a team." He handed Azriel the flask.

"When did you become so wise?" Azriel asked after taking a swallow.

Cassian shrugged and took the flask back. "When it comes to females, I've done my research," he said with a cheeky grin.

Azriel chuckled and rolled his eyes slightly, looking back at the fire.

Cassian finished off the flask and sighed pleasurably. "So, if you're not going to eat that, can I have it?"

Azriel looked back to his brother and smiled. "Nope." He took a bite.

* * *

They landed on the balcony in the growing light of dawn, softly padding into the apartment. Azriel picked up an unusual scent that triggered a memory he couldn't quite place, but everything in his body was in upheaval thinking about Kyla and her acceptance of the mating bond. They wandered into the living space, Cassian immediately checking for any leftover food while Azriel approached a sleeping figure on the sofa. Mor had clearly been waiting up for them and fallen asleep during her vigil. Azriel smiled and gently pulled a blanket over top of her. The female stirred at his touch and opened her eyes slightly.

"You're back," she mumbled, reaching for his hand. "How are you doing?"

Azriel gave her hand a squeeze. "Fine. Everything is just fine," he said reassuringly.

Cassian plunked himself down on a chair, stuffing his face with some crackers and cheese. "He's better than fine actually," he added with his mouth full.

Mor looked over at Cassian and frowned. "How long has that food been sitting out?"

Cassian shrugged. "I do not care. I'm hungry because Kyla only made snacks for Azriel. He wouldn't share!" he said indignantly.

Mor blinked twice then sat up, glancing between Azriel and Cassian. "You ate food she prepared for you…" she said in astonishment, her eyes growing wide.

Azriel smiled widely and nodded, his happiness bubbling to the surface. "She knew. I don't know how, but she knew and she gave it to me anyway. I didn't know what to do, I was so surprised, but we were so foolish to think she wouldn't figure it out." He actually chuckled a bit, his shadows all but buried under the light from his eyes. "When she wakes up let's just leave. This doesn't matter, let's get out of this place."

Mor shared in his delight but her smile faltered slightly. "Az, I'm happy for you, but it does matter. It matters to her. It's her justice; how she can put those nightmares behind her." She glanced at Cassian and tilted her head to Azriel. "You should know it didn't go well last night. Ferrik will go probably go free..."

The shadows grew around Azriel as his happiness faded slightly and he let the news sink in. Then he shook his head and stood up abruptly. "It's alright. We'll work it through. We've come this far and when the going gets tough, keep going," he stated purposefully, quoting one of Kyla's idioms.

Mor was about to answer when a loud banging on the door to the apartment had them all reaching for weapons. Rhys ripped open his bedroom door with Feyre right behind him. He glanced at the group by the sofa then at the door in question. Azriel and Cassian both moved between the front door and Kyla's bedroom while Rhys approached the entrance.

"Rhysand, drop the wards, it's Kallias."

Rhys motioned to the group to keep their guard up and moved the wards away from the door, but didn't drop them completely. The door flew open and a red-faced Lord of Winter stood in the hall. He looked at the group quickly, evidently doing a head count and coming up one short. He grew concerned.

"Kallias…tell me…" Rhys said slowly.

"I don't know the details, but there's been a death. The guards are scrambling and Beron is nowhere to be found. But Ferrik was stronger off the drug; she wouldn't have stood a chance—"

Azriel whipped around and threw open Kyla's bedroom door, Mor and Cassian right on his heels. Kyla lay like a corpse on top of the bed, still fully clothed from yesterday. Her breathing was even but the commotion hadn't woken her. Mor was about to pull Azriel back when he roared and leapt through the air landing directly astride Kyla on the bed, his hands on her throat. Cassian and Mor immediately grabbed him while he screamed in Kyla's face.

"Azriel! What are you doing?!" they cried, trying to pull him off.

"WHERE IS SHE?" he screamed loud enough to shake the walls. Though they shouted and struggled on the bed, Kyla remained asleep, completely undisturbed by the Illyrian trying to kill her. They managed to drag him to the ground, pulling Kyla and most of the sheets off the bed at the same time and knocking a small dish of incense burning on her bedside table. The illusion shimmered in the air and Kyla's body faded, replaced by a groggy blond-haired female faerie. She sat up and looked around in confusion, but then froze at the sight of the Illyrian being restrained in front of her. When Azriel roared again her eyes rolled back and she fainted in terror.

Cassian walked up to the bedside table and picked up the dish of herbs that had been burning. He scrunched up his nose in distaste. "The same incense from the cave with the Illyrian children," he explained. That had been the unusual scent they had picked up when they landed.

Azriel sprinted out of the room, Cassian and Mor right behind him. He barreled past the High Lords and into the hallway racing for the stairs to the guarded cells in the bowels of the castle. Footsteps echoed off the stone walls as the Night Court flew through the palace, desperation growing in their hearts.

At the bottom of the stairs Azriel nearly tripped over a guard lying face down by the entrance to the prison. A cursory glance showed no wounds or evidence of a fight. It was almost as though he had fallen asleep at his post. Azriel stepped over him and moved through the tunnels all brightly illuminated by faelights. Voices sounded in the distance, low and calm, like they were whispering out of respect for the dead. The shadows roared around Azriel and his Siphons burned as panic grew in his chest. He picked up Kyla's scent in the tunnels. Cassian and Rhys came up beside him quickly, ready to shield any outbursts and keep a tight hold on their brother.

Azriel stumbled when he found a second guard learning against the wall. No blood, no wounds; just asleep. Panic was taking hold as he came around the corner to see Helion speaking tersely with one of his guards, gesturing widely. Helion looked up and saw Azriel barreling towards him and threw up a blinding light, bringing everyone to a halt as their vision was impeded.

"I thought I told you to stay away from here!" Helion growled.

Rhys kept his eyes shut and didn't counter Helion's light with his own darkness out of respect for the High Lord whose court they were visiting. "They were gone all night! Cassian and Azriel just returned this morning, before Kallias came to our door."

"Gone where, though? They weren't in the suite but they could have been down here, causing this!" Helion fumed.

The light of Day began to fade and the faeries blinked and looked around. Azriel stood frozen on the spot, his eyes not believing the scene in front of him.

Cassian came up beside him then slowly approached the bars of the cell where the body lay in a pool of blood. "Cauldron boil me…"

Ferrik lay on his back, his eyes frozen in the shock he experienced just before his death. A single stab wound penetrated his abdomen, simple and clean.

On the floor beside him was a small wooden carving of a fox.


	47. Two

**Chapter 47-Two**

For one brief moment relief flooded through Rhys. They had jumped to conclusions when Kallias said 'she didn't stand a chance'. It wasn't her. Kyla's body wasn't here, and he didn't have to watch his brother shatter into a million pieces. Yet. He closed his eyes for an instant, trying to calm his racing heart and push down the dred that had built up. He needed to keep his head.

When Rhys opened his eyes he saw his family standing at the bars of the locked cell staring down at the body of their enemy. A sick, twisted fae who had put their friend through so much pain. The only person they knew of who had any answers. Feyre crouched down and reached through the bars, picking up the fox figurine and holding it gently in her palms. She looked up at Helion with confusion on her face. "What is going on?" She searched the room for answers but her eyes eventually came back to the fox in her hands.

Rhys had been worried about Azriel's anger, then his grief. Now he was worried about Azriel's sanity. The Illyrian was clearly unable to process, emotions flowing through him while he searched for the appropriate reaction. Rhys couldn't tell if he was happy that Ferrik was dead, or angry that someone else had done it, or confused about the reappearance of the fox, or concerned for his mate. It was probably all of these things and more. Azriel continued to stare at Ferrik, his body trembling as he fought for control.

"Where is she, Rhysand? She's not outside the law," Helion said with a dangerous tone.

"You think a mortal girl did this? Took out your guards and killed a High Fae locked behind bars?" Cassian spat.

"You're right, that does seem far-fetched. But it wouldn't be hard for two Illyrians," Helion retorted.

Cassian snarled but then an evil grin came to his face. "Believe me I would have jumped at the opportunity but if had been us you would have had to scrape what was left of him up with a shovel."

Rhys ignored the High Lord of Day and stepped up close to his brother. "Azriel." No response. "Azriel, I know this is hard, but you need to tell us. What do you feel? What do you feel through the bond?"

Azriel's breathing was ragged as he dug deep into his soul trying to sort out his emotions from those of his mate. "Fear. Always fear. She covers it up, or laughs it off, but it's always there." He swallowed a ragged breath.

"Is she in the castle?" Helion demanded.

Azriel shook his head. "No. She's far, I can't even tell if it's her I can feel, or the absence of her."

Feyre walked over quietly and reached for his hand. She carefully placed the wooden fox in his palm and closed his fingers around it. Rhys turned to Cassian and Mor. "Take him back upstairs. We'll sort out a plan away from this mess," he said as he turned his nose up at the dead fae on the floor.

Helion stayed to speak to the guards about dealing with the body while the Night Court quietly moved down the hallway, Cassian and Mor keeping a careful eye on their brother. Behind them Rhys spoke to Feyre's mind. _You check the guard at the entrance, I'll check this one._ She nodded once and kept up with the trio while Rhys paused by the unconscious cell guard. He quickly dove into the male's mind, searching for the events of the night before. When he saw what had happened he pursed his lips in frustration but also shook his head in admiration. She covered her tracks well.

He was interrupted from his silent interrogation by another palace guard stalking down the hall. He nodded at Rhys before walking by, but then hesitated and stopped. He didn't turn around to face Rhys but tilted his head to the side slight to ensure his whisper was heard. "There's a horse missing," was all he said before walking on to report to his own High Lord.

Rhys mulled over this piece of the puzzle while he walked back to the apartment. He was so lost in thought he nearly collided with a visibly upset blond faerie practically fleeing the vicinity. He was about to grab her arm and prevent her from leaving when Mor called out, "It's alright, we've already spoken with her," and Rhys let her pass. He stepped into the suite and walked over to the group standing in the centre of the room.

"What did you find?" he asked Feyre.

She shook her head and shrugged. "It's odd because from what I can tell the guard drugged his own partner. He put the sleeping potion in his canteen, then swapped it with the other guard."

Rhys nodded knowingly. "I thought so. The other guard did the same. They were in on it, but knew that their minds could be searched."

Mor's jaw hit the ground. "They were in on it? Were they bribed?"

Rhys frowned and shrugged. "I didn't see that, but I didn't have a lot of time to go digging around. What did the faerie have to say?"

"Not much unfortunately," Cassian sighed. "She's just a kitchen maid. The last thing she remembers was going to the washroom outside the trial. That's when the spell must have been cast to switch her out for the real Kyla. There's no way anyone could have snuck in past the wards."

"So someone grabbed Kyla in the washroom and then replaced her with an illusion so we wouldn't suspect, then bribed two Day Court guards to take a sleeping potion, then killed Ferrik, then...what?" Feyre crossed her arms and scowled. "This isn't adding up."

"Kyla did it," Azriel said quietly. It was the first thing he had said since the dungeon. Then he almost chuckled sadly. "She did it." There was a tinge of pride in his voice.

Cassian looked his brother sadly. "Az, she's strong for a human, but how could she have killed him with one blow?"

"The ash knife. Enoch made her a dagger of Illyrian steel fused with ash. She used it when the camp was attacked and again here. One well placed blow. She promised herself at least two, but she only need one this time."

Realisation dawned on each of them in turn.

"The faerie was in on it too. She was waiting in the washroom for Kyla to come in," Mor said.

"It was the same spell Kyla learned from the Illyrian crone, the one that held an illusion through the burning of the incense. I found Kyla studying the amulet in the library weeks ago," Cassian added.

Rhys shifted on his feet. "A guard from the stables walked by as I was leaving the dungeons. He didn't make eye contact but as he went by he whispered that a horse was missing from the stables. He wanted me to know, but didn't want to be seen telling me."

Mor choked a bit and coughed. When Rhys glanced up he saw that the cough was to cover up laughter. His cousin was giggling uncontrollably. He gave her a disgusted look.

"Mor. Morrigan, it's not funny," he admonished.

"Actually, it's very funny. There may be faeries out there who don't want to see humans as part of society, but apparently not in Helion's court!" Mor wiped the tears from her face and collapsed down on the sofa. "She befriended half this castle when we were here in the spring! The servants are the ones who pulled this off. The ones who saw that justice would not be served to a second-class citizen and took matters into their own hands. The kitchen maid, the guards, the stable grooms...they were all in on it!"

Feyre jumped in. "I gave Kyla the wooden fox back after Amren determined it wasn't cursed. She left it next to Ferrik to tell us it was her." A smile came to her face as well and she shook her head in wonder.

Rhys looked at the females in turn and pursed his lips considering the implications for his court. "If Kyla claims responsibility, it prevents Beron from starting a war with either Night or Day. It could leave the human realms vulnerable to his wrath except that he would have to admit that his son was killed by a mortal. I don't think his ego could take that. Plus, he'd have to prove that it was her and he doesn't know about the connection with the fox, or the conspiring servants."

"Well played, Kiki," Cassian said with a grin.

"But where is she now?" Azriel asked, unable to mask the pain in his voice. "Wandering through the Day Court on her own?"

Cassian shrugged. "How hard can it be to find one mortal, especially one who has a knack of standing out?"

Feyre glared at him. "That's not reassuring, Cassian."

But Azriel hardly noticed. He was using every bit of magic to reach down the bond and try to feel his mate. The connection was weak and before it broke he tried to send down his love and reassurance that they had figured out it and were not far behind. _Find me. When this is over, find me._

He would.

* * *

Kyla stopped the horse on a ridge that offered her a sweeping view of the hills in the distance. Heat Bugs had begun their intense shrill already, indicating that the day would get even warmer. She tilted her face to the sky and let the sun fall on her expose skin, her jacket long ago stuffed in a saddlebag. She reached back and pulled out a canteen of water and took a long drink. She could see the stream below where she would refill.

The birds called around her; she knew each of their names. But not that one. There was one she hadn't heard before. That species of bird clearly didn't live around the Cabin. She listened again and committed the song to memory.

Then she turned the horse and began walking again, heading south towards the mortal realm.


	48. This is where I leave you

A note from the author:

"Thank you so much to all of you for reading and commenting and following this story. I can't tell you how much it makes me smile when I get an alert letting me know someone has followed or reviewed. One review came after a particularly hard day when I wanted to sit down and cry. I was searching for distraction from demoralisation and saw a positive comment on the story, and I couldn't help but smile through the tears. You have no idea how reviews can affect someone!

But this is where I leave you. After 47 chapters and more than 120,000 words Kyla's story will end here. "What?!" you might cry. "How you can you leave it like that?" Kyla fled the Day court to prevent Beron from declaring war, and Azriel and the Night Court will surely look for her, which might take them to some interesting places.

But those interesting places have not yet been invented! Or maybe they have, you'll need to ask SJM. Because Kyla is heading off to the mortal realm to get some answers she so desperately needs, and Sarah hasn't really given us much to go on there. I've placed some blame on this sorcerer-lord-figure but I really have no idea who he is and why he cursed Queen Vassa, so I don't know what his interest in Kyla might be.

Is Kyla a mortal queen? Maybe, but again Sarah has only has only given us a few hints that the mortal queens have magic, are rather awful, and there might have been one or two good ones mixed among them. So it seems possible that Kyla was hidden away to protect her from those queens, but to what end? Is she supposed to take over the world now? Cauldron, I hope so.

To be honest I never intended for it to get this far. When I originally posted I marked the story as 'complete' when Ferrik was found out and thrown in the dungeon. But writing this story was so much fun, and the reviews and messages I received really motivated me to write more. Not to mention daily text messages from my sister that included only two words: "More chapters!" That's how she answers the phone when I call now. She hadn't even read any of the ACOTAR books and still liked Cabin Fever.

That got me thinking: if I need to expand my creative brain and invent the mortal realm, motivation for the sorcerer, and the final fate of Kyla, why not really invent the whole universe from scratch? Well I'll tell you why not: it's hard! Kudos to those out there who have done it.

But with the support and encouragement of my friends, I'm going to give it a shot. I'm not quitting my day job or anything, but I'm hitting pause on Cabin Fever because I'm going to take Kyla's storyline and rework it into a new world. And in that world I'll be able to answer some of her questions and make some things happen that just weren't possible in the ACOTAR universe. Say good-bye to the Cauldron and the fae, but personalities similar to the Inner Circle will remain. I do need to make them different enough that I'm not plagiarizing though. Sarah worked really hard to make Prythian and I need to respect that.

If you're interested in seeing what I come up with follow Cabin Fever and you'll get an alert when I post a note here letting you know when the new story is ready.

But before that I need to do some adulting! Grocery shopping, taxes, actually talking to my friends. Plus, I haven't read a book since before Christmas. Why read when you can write?"


	49. The Unknown Alchemist

Hello Readers!

Thanks so much for continuing to like and follow this story. I've invested so much time and energy into reworking this piece into my own universe, I kind of forgot that people are still finding _Cabin Fever_ and enjoying it. In fact, I've started reading _A Court of Frost and Starlight_ and almost get a little confused at times and have to remind myself that _Cabin Fever_ didn't really happen in SJMs chronology.

As promised I have transformed _Cabin Fever_ into a new universe. Sorta. It was incredibly difficult to find a balance between changing things that are uniquely ACOTAR and maintaining the feel of the storyline. I'm still working out the kinks, but I have completed a draft I've called " _The Unknown Alchemist_ ". If you made it all the way through _Cabin Fever_ then you'll find it quite similar (word-for-word at times) as I did want to keep some of the scenes and banter that people enjoy so much. Names and characters are changed, though you'll see a lot of similar personalities and locations. I worried a lot about it being too close to ACOTAR and I suppose if a publisher ever says, "This is too similar," then I'll have to change it some more. But that may never happen so I'll not worry about it too much.

Confession time: I've actually had some chapters posted for a while now and I didn't tell you. I wanted to see what people thought, who didn't know it was originally a FanFic. I wanted to see if they made the connection. So far I've had good feedback so I thought it time to share it with you. But don't spoil it! If others don't know it's based on the ACOTAR world I want to get their initial impressions. I even put in a few homages to ACOTAR here and there. Coming up are a few brand new chapters that weren't in _Cabin Fever_ so you'll want to start at the beginning.

Thanks for all the comments and well-wishes based on _Cabin Fever_!

Here's the link and happy reading! **/s/3323765/1/The-Unknown-Alchemist**

(For some reason it won't me include the full link, but it's at Fiction Press)

I've learned that FictionPress doesn't have a great mobile app. I'm also posting to Wattpad, which has a flashy platform but is harder to find the story you're looking for. If you'd prefer to read on mobile the link is below. It has pictures!

 **story/144540364-the-unknown-alchemist?utm_source=web &utm_medium=email&utm_content=share_myworks**

(Same with this link. It's on WattPad)


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